Magnificent! Act One: The Hunters
by StrangePointOfView
Summary: All of your smartest fictional characters come together in one world. In this world, only the most cunning, ruthless, and manipulative can survive. featuring David Xanatos, Artemis Fowl, Moriarty, Lelouch, Light, Palpatine, Magneto, The Master, and more.
1. Setting The Board

_Since the dawn of time, man has established itself over other creatures, through the use of tools._

_Invention dawned on mankind. They made hammers, swords, pens. But the most useful tool at their disposal was overlooked for quite some time. The tool right under their noses, was a wonderful invention. It could do anything from fight wars, and build houses, so simple, yet at the same time so complex. It was a tool the gods themselves would wield._

_That tool was man._

_Eventually, a select few of mankind learned how to use these god-given tools. Alexander the Great. Sun Tzu. Hannibal. Scipio. Ceasar. Vladimir the Impaler. Nichollo Machiavelli. Rommel. Patton. _

_What set these minds apart from the rest of humanity? By what rule or level were these minds exceptional? _

_Nobody really knows._

_But they do know that there is one word that can be used to describe these men. Whether or not we admire them, even if they try to kill us, there is only one word which can be used to describe their extraordinary ability to use their minds to their full potential, and through the application of which, challenge the gods._

_Magnificent._

* * *

The location was a school. Artemis could have written a thesis on the man's psychology on that fact alone. Nevertheless, there was more then one car parked outside, and the threat in entering was great.

"I don't like this Artemis." Butler said. "Too many unknowns."

Artemis smiled as he finished his mental summation of the situation. "Never fear Butler. David Xanatos is here. If he is here, then either he was the one who set the bait, and therefore wants something, and therefore will not attempt to kill us, or he was lured here too, and he deems it safe. I will admit, it is a risk, but the bait cannot be passed up."

Butler merely grunted, and began to triple check every weapon hidden on his body. Somebody had sent Artemis a video over his phone. A video of his father, alive but tied to a chair. The hospital called to inform him that his father had been kidnapped mere seconds after. They hadn't even bothered to hide their signal, letting Artemis trace them right to the building. A message had been sent, right after the trace was completed, not to call the police if he wanted to see his father alive.

Whoever was looking for a ransom, had sorely underestimated Artemis.

They walked in through the front door. Every entrance was being filmed anyway, might as well make it look good. Artemis had scanned the whole building from the car with his special new blue box. There were no cameras phones or other devices attached to the internet he wasn't aware of inside.

Of the names they were aware of from Artemis' cube, David Xanatos, Norman Osborn, Lex Luthor, and various other high class criminals.

Artemis showed no signs of hesitation. If they knew about him already, then they knew about him. If they didn't, then they'd underestimate him. It was a simple equation, with no room for doubt.

But he allowed Butler to be the first to push open the double doors of the philosophy classroom.

There, they found themselves looking at equally calm, though less intelligent, criminal masterminds. The Green Goblin and Lex Luthor seemed to be engaged in combat to the death – which Doctor Octopus and Bane seemed to be betting on. Tombstone slumped in a chair and glowering at the stage, like he expected it to come alive and attack him. David Xanatos was idly chatting with what looked like a well dressed Neanderthal. And a figure Artemis didn't recognize in a shadowy half-mask was sitting in the shadows in the back of the room.

Artemis walked up to Xanatos. "Hello David."

"Artemis." The older man nodded. "I'd like you to meet Vandal Savage."

The Neanderthal grunted.

"He's one of the leaders of the Illuminati." Xanatos explained cheerfully.

Artemis raised an eyebrow. "I thought that didn't exist?"

"I'll deny it." Xanatos shrugged.

"Do you know why we're here?"

"No." Xanatos admitted. "It's interesting though, isn't it? You had something close to you threatened too, right?"

Artemis nodded. "And every person here is a criminal, known for being smarter than average, yes?"

"So you see it too." Vandal Savage said. "Whoever has done this wants our attention. He wants us to know what he can do."

An explosion rocked the auditorium, as the Green Goblin let loose one of his pumpkin bombs.

"Hey!" Tombstone snapped. "Settle down you two! Or do you want everyone in London to know we're here?"

"He started it." The Green Goblin pointed.

"No I didn't." Luthor said, pointing a gun at the goblin.

"Oh, you're right, I did." A small laser came out of the Green Goblin's fingertips and shot the gun out of his hand. He blew his fingertips like a smoking gun barrel, and laughed as Luthor gripped his hand in pain, then back flipped over towards Artemis. "And who's the new kid? Aren't you up a little past your bedtime?"

Ever since the 'I like lollipops' incident, Artemis Fowl had been careful to think of every unimaginative thing piece of mockery somebody could come up with for him, and then come up with at least five counters to them. "I am up a great deal past my bedtime. And if you keep breathing in my air, you'll wish I wasn't."

There, that sounded suitably intimidating.

The Green Goblin cackled. "Oooh, I like this one!"

"Step off." Butler said politely, standing between the Goblin and Artemis. Butler was willing to let Artemis play 'the incredibly creepy vampire boy' but only up to the point where supervillains began to get in his face and laugh at his scare tactics.

The Green Goblin looked up at Butler. Then looked up again. He whistled. "I don't think I like this one as much. Too serious. I think you're more Tombstone's speed."

The albino looked up briefly, and frowned. "Goblin… I look forward to seeing your head roll one day."

The Green Goblin giggled. "Oh do lighten up Tombstone! We're supervillains! It's our job to antagonize people." He licked his lips. "Don't you just love that word? Antagonize? Who thought to put an ant in front of agony? I mean, have you ever tortured an ant before? It's over too quickly! No fun at all!"

Artemis watched him disdainfully. Why were he and Xanatos here? This seemed to be a strictly Legion Of Doom gathering. All these costumes… Artemis wouldn't dream of switching his fine Italian suits for spandex.

Suddenly, the roof burst open above the stage. A man in an iron suit and a green cape descended, though not through any visible means of suspension. Artemis instantly recognized him. He was the most dangerous man in the world. Even the fairies were hesitant to watch him, as he might catch on at any second.

Victor Von Doom, Monarch of Latvertia.

Artemis admired the entrance.

"Ah, good evening Doom." Lex Luthor spoke up. "So you're the one who wants us all together, eh?"

"Luthor, do not speak to me so informally." Doom hissed. He turned his eyes – surprisingly – to me and Xanatos. "Xanatos, Fowl, why have I been summoned here?"

Xanatos and I shared a look. It was nice to know the king of a country considered us his equals over Luthor. "We don't know." Xanatos said. "I would assume our host is waiting for everybody to be here."

"And everybody is!"

The voice came from being the stage. It was a squeaky, annoying voice. Smug, smarmy. The owner of the voice swaggered out onto the stage.

"Hi there!"

He had the most annoying british accent possible. Professor Higgins would be appalled. He was a little on the paunchy side. Not fat enough to be obese, yet clearly, disgustingly out of shape, a small belly protruding from his otherwise well made jacket. Artemis' estimation of the man would have went up a few notches after noting he was not wearing a costume, except in some ways wearing a suit that was expensive yet purposefully ill-fitting was worse. His face was one of undeniable glee as he entered a room full of some of the most dangerous men in the world.

"Oh, look at your faces." The little British snot said. "You're probably thinking 'who is this bloody sod'? Eh? You're probably thinking 'I fought Superman' or 'I fought Batman' or 'I fought the Justice League' or 'I'm a high ranking member of the Illuminati' even. Well, I'm the most dangerous man in the room right now, so those of you who haven't already gone to hell and come back are in for a real treat."

"You think you're the most dangerous man in the room?" Vandal Savage asked.

"Well, I don't see the Joker anywhere." He looked around. "So, yes."

Savage sneered. "I've eaten blacker hearts then his."

The brit smiled affectionately. "Bet that gave you a bit of the runs."

"Why have you brought us here?" Doom asked. "How dare you attempt to blackmail Doom?"

"That's the wrong question." The strange man was clearly having fun.

"Who are you?"

Artemis turned as the mysterious man in the back leaned forward.

"That's the right question Slade." The man twirled on the spot. "The name's Jim Moriarty. Hullo!"

Artemis looked across the room, and met David Xanatos' eyes. They'd both heard of Jim Moriarty. He stood up. "I've heard enough. I'm leaving now."

"Out of the mouths of babes." Lex Luthor also stood.

"Oh do come on, you two I haven't even gotten to my proposal yet."

"I've heard rumors about you." Artemis said. "I've even followed your exploits, closely. You're very clever, but so am I. I have no need of your services."

"Oh, but you will." Jim giggled. "You so will. I'm just about to tell you why, too, _**SO SIT DOWN!**_"

Artemis barely registered that Butler had his gun drawn beside him. Artemis had felt fear once or twice in his life. He was, after all, only a child, and no matter how smart there were some things that it was rational for him to be afraid of. However, he had never been afraid while Butler was standing right behind him. Never. When Moriarty had yelled those last three words, those words were empty. There was no horrible accent. There was no chummy, bumbling foolish man. There wasn't even rage – not true rage. To be angry at somebody, they'd have to have trodden on something you cared about. No… this was emptiness. Evil. And Artemis, after a nanosecond of thought, realized that the fear of this man was even worse because he had Butler at his side. If he was this scared while Butler had his gun drawn, how terrified would he be if he was alone with Moriarty?

"What if I were to shoot you?" Butler asked. "Right here, right now." Artemis was touched, but he knew it wouldn't work.

"Well then you could cherish the look of surprise on my face." Moriarty adopted a look of mock surprise. It should have been comical, that goldfish-like expression. But somehow, it wasn't. "And I'd be surprised Butler, reallyI would, and just a little bit, disappointed,and of course, you wouldn't be able to cherish it for very long."

The projector whirred to life, and images flashed on the screen behind him. The first was Artemis' father. Still tied up, and at gunpoint. Then the screen split, and it became the image of crosshairs looking at Norman Osborn's son. Then the screen split again, and Xanatos' wife came into focus, suspended upside down over a pool of sharks. The screen split again, to Lex Luthor's company secrets, ready to be uploaded to the internet.

The screen split again. And again. Until there was something on it for everyone.

"If I don't leave this building, every threat I've made will be met." Moriarty said. "Of course, I realize that may not appeal to everyone here. In fact, some of you are probably thinking that if you killed me, you could take your losses, as long as you made everybody else take yours. But do you really want to get on the nerves of every single person in this room?"

"You are." Xanatos pointed out.

"Well, yeah, but that was just the stick." Moriarty shrugged. "Here's the carrot. If you want me as an ally, all you have to do is ask, and pay my price. This… all of this?" He waved vaguely at the screen. "Is me showing you a fraction of what I can do. Some of you have already heard rumors and whispers about me."

"I haven't heard anything." Vandal Savage growled.

"Well yes." Moriarty admitted. "Because I heard of the Illuminati first, and then I told them to look the other way for me."

"Why?" Doctor Octopus asked. "Why choose now to reveal yourself if you're so well hidden?"

"Why does anyone do anything?" Moriarty's voice had a tinge of hopelessness in it now. "I'm bored. Everybody comes to me with their little problems. 'Dear Jim, would you fix it for me for my husband to disappear?' 'Dear Jim would you please fix it for me that I'll have a promotion sometime soon?'"

Moriarty snorted. "It's so pedestrian, so mundane. It was fun for a while, but now I have a taste for bigger fish." He said the word fish with an unusual relish. "I've decided I want to kill the Justice League. And the Fantastic Four. And the Teen Titans. And, you know, I realize that I may as well get paid to do those things."

He smiled. "So… if Doom wants to take care of Richards himself when I go after the Fantastic Four… if Slade wants me to spare Robin… if any of you want in on this, all you have to do is pay the price. That's my offer, you've all had my number added to your phones."

Artemis checked his phone. That number hadn't been there before.

"That's it?" Tombstone asked.

"Yes. Those of you who've had relatives kidnapped, will have them returned. Of course, I could kidnap them at any time, but this was only a demonstration."

"Why Xanatos and me?" Artemis asked. "If your goal is superheroes, why include the two of us in this little demonstration?"

"Why does anyone do anything?" Jim smirked, and left. The projector went dark as he made his exit.

Doom hissed. "This has been a waste of Doom's time." He flew out of the hole in the roof.

"I dunno." I thought it was fun!" The Green Goblin left through the roof too. Most of the others left through the front door, some frowning, some smiling. Slade just disappeared.

Artemis himself waited until he was alone with Xanatos. "Did you buy any of that?" He asked.

"No." Xanatos said. "And I don't think we're the only one who didn't buy it. Moriarty's not an idiot, he wouldn't go through all this trouble just for a demonstration."

Artemis nodded. "Take care of yourself David." Then he and Butler left.

It was only when he was back in the safety of his car did Artemis let out a breath of relief, and take out his blue box again. "Cube, present all data from Moriarty's phone."

The cube did as it was asked, and Artemis smiled as he went through Moriarty's emails.

"Outgoing call." The Cube informed him.

"Cube, eavesdrop." Artemis said. "And record."

Jim Moriarty's annoying voice came over the line. "Hullo Sebastion."

"Jim. How did the meeting go?"

"Just as planned. You can kill the hostages now, release the documents, set off the bombs. Oh, and set up a meeting with our Illuminati people, I want it dissolved."

Artemis' eyes widened. He subconsciously noted his hands were tightening around the cube, which was never a good sign.

"Sir?"

"You know how changeable I am Sebastion. I've decided it would be much more interesting if the smartest of the world's most evil were angry at me. It would be so much more fun tearing them apart then just going after the heroes."

"You want every one of them angry at you at once?"

"They'll be angry at me separately. I'm sending them each messages now, saying that another member of the group meeting we just had paid for my services, and apologizing for their loss. It's just business after all. They understand that they would have done the same thing if they'd only paid me first…"

"Cube, locate and intercept call." Artemis said. The locating feature proudly displayed a red dot, a dot Artemis showed to Butler, who drove to intercept the mastermind.

Then in a louder, more authoritative tone, the tone of voice Artemis used especially for frightening people who thought he was 'just a kid', he said: "That would be exceptionally unwise Mr. Moriarty."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, followed by a chuckle. "Well well, if it isn't Mr. Fowl. How on earth did you hack into my phone?"

"Irrelevant." Artemis said. "What is relevant, is the fact that I have recorded this conversation, and will send it to everybody who attended your little display. They will be interested to know you deliberately antagonized them, and while I'm sure some will fight amongst themselves regardless, others…" He let the last sentence trail off.

"Oh, good!" Moriarty sounded like he was genuinely proud of Artemis for threatening him.

"That was my stick. This is the carrot. I am willing to pay you a metric ton of gold in small, unmarked ingots, for the safe return of my father."

That irritating chuckle returned over the line. "Gold Mr. Fowl? You think I have moths in my wallet? I can get money everywhere. This world is chock full of money, and people will spend it on the silliest things. I'm bored Mr. Fowl. You can pay me in excitement or not at all. Your threat was better, but I started recording this conversation the moment you interrupted. I'm sure my apologies to the others will go much smoother if they here you're…"

Moriarty stopped, and Artemis heard his own voice being played back to him, on a grainy hand-held recording device, which could probably not be hacked by his cube. "…willing to pay you a metric ton of gold in small, unmarked ingots…"

Artemis frowned. Now his blackmail would be useless. If he warned the others, Moriarty would simply make it look like Artemis was the one who had paid for Moriarty to get rid of the other's bargaining chips.

Artemis leaned into the cube. "I have access to your phone, and therefore your computer. I have the details of every crime you've ever committed. I will send them to the police unless you release my father."

"Oh, yawn. Even if you could go to the police without revealing how you're such a good hacker, all that would get me is some free publicity while my clients go to jail. Artemis, you overheard me ordering the dissolution of the Illuminati… **_DO BETTER_!**"

Artemis gasped and sat back as Butler swerved through traffic. That voice again. He glanced at the street signs, and then at the cube, and realized he was getting closer to Moriarty. All he needed to do was stall for a moment longer.

"Very well, I shall do better." His voice was the temperature of liquid nitrogen. "If you do not release my father, then I will ignore you. I will let everybody else deal with you. Bane, the Green Goblin, Lex Luthor… I am a child, I do know my superheroes and supervillains. I know that one of them will kill you. I wouldn't have to lift a finger. But if you release him, I will join the others in their mad rush to destroy you."

"Hmmmm, tempting. How about this?" Moriarty's voice took on a tone of childlike glee. "We'll make a race of it. I'll keep your father a live and safe. And if you manage to outsmart me, then I'll give you your father back. But if any of the other supervillains I'm about to cheese off find me first, and presumably kill me, you'll never see your father again."

There was a sound on one end of the phone. The sound of a helicopter. Butler was speeding up. Artemis was feeling sick.

"Either way, whatever game you think your playing will end with you dead."

"Going through all this and not dying does sound slightly impossible, I'll admit. But I'll tell you one thing; it doesn't sound boring at all."

The car turned into the parking lot of an empty warehouse by the docks. A helicopter was just taking off. Jim was just getting in. He turned and waved at them, then chucked his phone into the ocean.

"Butler…" Butler was already out of the car and pointing his sig saur at the chopper. Before he could fire a shot, a bullet penetrated his shoulder. He fell back and Moriarty waved goodbye again. The pilot of the helicopter lowered his gun, the hole in the windshield not hampering his ability to take off.

Butler got back in the car. "That was Sebastian Moran." Butler growled. "The best shot in the world that's not a supervillain or a mutant."

A hand reached out of the helicopter as it flew over them, and a phone dropped out, shattering on the pavement. Just as Artemis consoled himself that they could still trace Sebastion's phone, another phone fell out and shattered on the ground.

Artemis nodded and took out the car's first aid kit. He considered hacking into the Justice League's satellite and shooting him out of the sky, but then he'd never find out where his father was. No, he realized, he would simply track that helicopter. "Well Butler, it looks like we won't be going home any time soon. We'd better call mother, let her know what we're up to. I don't believe she'd say no to us rescuing father."

Moriarty had sorely underestimated Artemis.

* * *

_A/N: So, I used to have a story called Magnificent. It was my attempt at updating a story in realtime. It was a failure. But I loved it, and I had fans who loved it, so here it is again, now in the format of an actual story. A story where all of my favorite criminal masterminds, evil geniuses and guile heroes come into conflict. Now, with a voiceover beginning, just like X-men! Who will come out on top!_

_Artemis Fowl is the hero of his own series. David Xanatos is from Gargoyles. Moriarty is from BBC's SHERLOCK. Tombstone, Green Goblin, and Doctor Octopus, are from The Spectacular Spider-man. Lex Luthor and Vandal Savage are from Justice League Unlimited. Bane is from Dark Knight Rising (I know I haven't seen it yet, but he sure looks like he'll be a member of the Magnificent, simply because Chris Nolan's directing his movie, so he's not going to be a hulking brute. Therefore, since he's not just a brute, there is only one other character type he could be). And Slade is from Teen Titans._


	2. Seen and Unseen

**SPOILER ALERTS FOR AVENGERS!**

"But how did he know about you?" The metallically dead voice of the brain asked.

"I suspect that he traced me through the Illuminati." Vandal Savage's deep angry voice said. "Xanatos isn't a hidden name, and he's a member. I don't know how he managed to trace me through his contacts, but he also managed to all but destroy the illuminati, so I suspect he had his ways of finding out."

"Why weren't the rest of us invited?" Buzzed the impatient voice of Queen Bee.

"I suspect that he didn't have any means to contact Ras or the Brain. The rest of you… well, you all have your gifts, but I suspect you didn't pass the intelligence bar."

Ras Al Ghul sighed as he listened to Orrin complain and Luthor gloat on that last comment. He sat back in his comfortable limousine, sipping a fourteenth century chianti. Thankfully, his League of Shadows was a completely different entity than Vandal's Illuminati. The two had even come into conflict multiple times in the past. The first and second world wars… those were fun. But they decided to strike a truce after the cold war. Nobody wanted Mutually Assured Destruction.

The merge between them to form The Light had been most beneficial for them both. Vandal had access to Ras' assassins, and Ras had access to Vandal's 'I have people everwhere' ploy. Though, no longer. This was cause for some concern. Ras and Vandal had done battle several times over several centuries. But for a newcomer to do more damage to Vandal than Ras would be able to do in years?

"How did he do it?" Ras asked.

The conversation and/or argument of The Light ceased. "An excellent question." The Brain said.

"He really shouldn't have been able to destroy my men's loyalty." Savage growled. "But then, he has proved his proficiency at blackmail. Recall last week Ras, when I asked you if you were terminating my hitmen? That was him. He blackmailed some. The more bloodthirsty and sadistic hitmen were promised something else, I haven't found one yet to interrogate. He also had several of the less important members, politicians and scientists mostly, blackmailed. He put them in charge of killing certain groups within the Illuminati, and then when they were done they killed each other."

Ras leaned forward towards the screen. "He had his own spies kill each other?"

"Yes. From what the survivors told me, he told each one of them that he or she was his only spy. When the Illuminati came to kill them for betrayal, he withheld the protection he'd promised them, and forced them to fight for their survival. Only when the entire Illuminati was destroyed would they be safe. So, they went to work. And when they met another member trying to destroy the Illuminati, they assumed it was one of mine, not one of theirs, and… shot first."

Ras leaned back. Interesting.

He could tell you anything you wanted about a man by the way he fought. Literally, anything. He could tell you if they had oatmeal for breakfast by their fighting stance. It was more difficult to tell that from a man who was fighting with his mind and not his body, but Ras learned something. Whoever this 'Moriarty' was, he liked to play games. Cruel games, like a cat toying with a mouse. He was much like the Joker… except saner… which may make him more or less dangerous.

"I think we should recruit more members into The Light." Klarion's childish and menacing voice cakled.

"Bad idea." Luthor said immediately, in his impatient, arrogant tone.

"I concur." Ras said, mirroring the tone.

"Actually, the idea is intriguing." Orrin said, in a voice that suggested he'd thought of something clever, and wasn't going to share it with the rest of them.

"It has merit." Savage admitted. "But we already have most of the super-criminal element under our control. If you're thinking of adding any of the supervillains Moriarty gathered… they would be too unpredictable. They wouldn't accept orders from a shadowy conspiracy, unless they were part of the shadows. And we cannot allow any other members into the inner circle. Bane has a reputation for being a lone wolf and already has reason to hate us from our attack on his island. The Green Goblin and Doctor Octopus are too unstable."

"What about Xanatos?" Orrin asked. "He's a former member of the Illuminati right?"

"He's still a member." Vandal growled. "The Illuminati may be smaller now, and less powerful, but we are together. And no, he would not be a suitable member. I control him for now, as he wonders at my immortality, but if he finds out about Ras, and his far more accessible immortality, then he would bow to no man."

"How do you know he hasn't already outgrown you?" Luthor mocked him. "Someone in that meeting wanted your organization dissolved."

"And that's another reason why recruitment from that specific pool would be a bad idea."

"Stop your bickering." Ras ordered. He was very vocal when it came to infighting. A house divided cannot stand. The Light was already on a narrow thread; Klarion had enchanted them so that none could lie to each other. The less intelligent members of The Light had not picked up on it yet, but Ras knew that Luthor and Vandal realized the potential for Klarion to have lied about the spell. He was an agent of chaos after all, and it would be an easy way to sow discontent among The Light.

Fortunately, Luthor's bid for candidacy wasn't entirely gone. He was still in the running, and while the pictures of the girls in the super girl costumes had been damning, as had the blueprints for the K.K.K. ray, Klarion had been able to swiftly relocate the location of the bodies he'd buried, so he could refute the rest of the evidence against him as being lies if he spun it well enough. Likewise, Savage's operation had been crippled, but it was still struggling on.

Still, the most important thing was he had convinced Savage to keep a civil tone with Luthor, and Luthor to keep his civil-with-undertones-of-mockery tones.

His limousine stopped.

"Gentlemen, if you'll excuse me for a moment, I have business to attend to." Ras closed his laptop and stepped out of the limousine.

Gene-Sys was one of the number one leaders in medicine. It was all under Ras' thumb of course. He wouldn't usually stoop to this level, but this was an important matter for him. Chesire got out of the driver's seat. He knew she had a passion for biological warfare. She might find something fun here.

As they walked through the front door, Gene-Sys' CEO, Mr. Jacobs, walked up to meet them. "Sir, it is an honor." He said, beaming. His voice was pathetically eager-to-please, with no trace worry. "Truly a pleasure that you would grace my humble establishme –"

"Jacobs." Ras interrupted the man with a cordial voice, underlined with danger. "I trust the security cameras have been fed a loop for the duration of our visit?"

"Well yes, of course! Don't worry, you won't be caught on candid ca –"

"Are there any men working on the ALZ-113 that you do not want killed?"

Jacobs blinked. "What?" He asked, in a stupid, uncomprehending tone of voice.

"I have no interest in Alzhiemer's patients, Jacobs, but every interest in destroying every trace of this drug." Ras explained, adding a slight tinge of impatience to his tone.

Jacobs blinked. "Sir… this cure could make millions…"

"I assume you're still running your facility as stupidly as you used to?" Ras raised an eyebrow. "Still keeping your prototypes unguarded in the hopes that your employees will take them home and test them on their sick family members, so you can blackmail them into giving them their share of the fortunes you'll make?"

Jacob's mouth opened and shut, like some fantastically comical fish.

"Remember who took you away from your car salesman days and gave you this start in life." Ras said. "And tell me that the only people in the basement are the ones who know about ALZ-112 and ALZ-113."

Jacobs nodded. "Yes. They're all down there."

Ras nodded. Chesire handed Jacobs a briefcase. Later, Jacobs would count the money therein and tell himself that it was worth it.

He was an idiot to think that human life is worth mere money. To kill someone… you had to have a vision. Something to fight for. A reason beyond cotton paper.

"Come Chesire." Ras' voice was now expressionless. There was no need for any expression.

The trip down to the basement passed in what seemed like mere moments for the immortal assassin. As Chesire cut a path through the helpless scientists, he strode forward, not a drop of blood landing on his suit, to the only thing that mattered.

Only one scientist had placed a picture on his work-desk. Ras picked it up, and was only slightly surprised to see his main target sharing a hug with his elderly father.

He looked up, and Chesire had done her work. Only young Will remained, kneeling before him, with a knife pressed to his throat.

"William Rodman." Ras said, in a tone of superiority and control, with warm overtones. "You've been meddling in things you do not understand."

"Please…" Will gasped. "Whatever you want… I…"

"What I want, is utopia." Ras Al Ghul sighed. "But that is impossible. The few humans who aren't outright corrupt… are simply stupid. You are the latter category." He picked up a canister that was also on his desk. "ALZ-112, and ALZ-113. You've stolen from me, Will Rodman."

Will's eyes widened. "No, I didn't…"

"Well, you didn't realize it." Ras smiled. "The Lazarus Pit… invented by a man smarter then you, just before the Roman Empire. Just the right combination of chemicals to bring a man back to life, or cure him from fatal illness. Like Alzheimers."

Will's eyes widened. "I don't know anything about that."

"No, of course you didn't." Ras sighed. "You only tested it on monkeys who had no illness, and your father who had Alzhiemers. You didn't go into a graveyard and spray the stuff around, thank god." Ras smiled. "ALZ-112 is not yet ready for mankind. So tell me, aside from your grandfather, and a handful of apes, who else has been exposed to ALZ-112?"

"Nobody." Will said. "Nobody. Please…"

"And ALZ-113?" Ras tapped into Will's computer. "I wonder what changes you've made… ah, of course. Sadly Mr. Rodman, the changes you've made have made ALZ-113 an extremely hazardous biological weapon. An original one too, you'll want to take heed of these Chesire. I do hope nobody was exposed to this strain?"

"No… nobody…" Will looked horrified at the thought.

"Well, thank goodness for that." Ras said, in a knowing voice. He inserted a device into the computer. Soon, his henchmen would download all necessary information and delete it from Gene-Sis' databanks. "Because it would be a shame if you'd injected it into your father. Would it cure his Alzheimers? Certainly. But it would also make him, and anyone who come in contact with him, die a slow and painful death."

Will looked suitably horrified. "No… He wouldn't let me…"

"He was a smart man." Ras sighed, his voice now sad. "Everything dies Mr. Rodman. I understand how hard it is, for a scientist of all people to accept that change for the better is futile. But that is how it must be. All that matters in the end… is being ended by a worthy opponent."

He waved his hand, and Chesire killed him.

"Gather every ALZ-113 canister you can find." Ras sighed. His voice had no tone again. As Chesire went to work, Ras noticed that the chimps had gone quiet. He stood and stared at the cages. One ape in particular caught his eye.

The ape had a scared face. Not just literal scars, but everything about his expression screamed of trauma. He wasn't watching with fear. He was watching with thoughtfulness. The name on the cage read: Koba.

"Can you understand me Koba?" Ras asked, in a voice without tone. The ape nodded, equally without tone.

"Yes, increased intelligence is one of the side effects. Can you speak in sign language?" The ape shook his head.

"Then I suppose this conversation would be rather one sided." The ape nodded again. "Koba, the compound that gave you this intelligence will also kill you." The ape frowned. "If you like, I could have Chesire kill you and your friends, to spare you the pain."

Koba considered, then shook his head.

"You don't want me to end your life quickly?"

Koba pointed at a pen and paper on the desk. Ras handed them to the ape, and he scrawled a short message.

_Koba is strong._

"This virus will be stronger." Ras said.

Koba shook his head adamantly. And then, to Ras' surprise, he began to mimic the movements of Chesire's attacks. His movements indicated a pride that had long been buried, and only recently been discovered. His movements had a tone to them, the same as any voice.

The same as any soul.

Ras smiled, and added understanding to his voice. "No… you want your death to be at the hands of a worthy opponent, yes? Maybe that opponent will be this virus… and if so, you want to fight it to the very end, correct?"

Koba nodded and howled.

"Leave the apes alive." Ras said, in a chipper tone, to Chesire as she finished packing the ALZ canisters. She put her knife away, looking faintly disappointed, and began to push the trolley towards the elevators. She knew better then to argue with him.

They reached the upper levels of the building, Ras explaining to Jacobs that a Dr. Rodman had protested the experiments to an unprecedented level, and killed every scientist working on the drugs. Unfortunately, Gene-Sys didn't have any prototypes of the drug. After filling Mr. Jacobs in, Ras got back into his limousine. He opened his laptop, and The Light was still in a meeting.

"But I want Slade to join!" Klarion said, in a pathetic whining tone. "He's so fun!"

"Enough." Ras Al Ghul said, with authority echoing in his every syllable. "Are you still discussing admitting new membership to The Light? Return your focus to the problem at hand; Moriarty."

"You have a proposition?" The Brain asked, in his dead voice.

"Moriarty wants us to hunt him, so that is exactly what we must not do. However, if he continues to be a threat, then we must fight him eventually. The obvious answer is, to test his mettle. We must pit him against another one of our foes. They will fight, and if Moriarty dies, then he is not a problem, but if our unwitting agents die, we have one less enemy in the world and we know we need to focus on the man who killed them."

"Them?" Asked Orrin, befuddledly.

Ras' tone smiled. "I already have the team selected. They have opposed me before, and thus far have escaped unscathed. In 1972, a crack commando unit was sent to prison by a military court after I framed them for a crime they didn't commit. These men promptly escaped from a maximum security stockade to the Los Angeles underground. Today, still wanted by the government, they survive as soldiers of fortune."

"Gentlemen… we have a problem, they are the perfect candidates to solve it, and we can find them. I propose that we hire... the A-Team."

* * *

Hawk Girl and Green Lantern both brought their weapons down on their foes one last time.

"I think that's the last of them." Hawk Girl said.

Green Lantern looked down. They were robots. Robots disguised in Santa Clause costumes. Underneath the Santa Claus masks, they looked like hornets, gleaming yellow with giant black eyes. "What are they?"

"Scavengers."

They both looked to the shadows, where a faceless detective emerged. "They're scavengers. They travel from world to alien world, stealing things they deem of value before the world is destroyed. Think of them as an advanced warning system." The Question looked at the scattered robots. "So the question is, what threat do they anticipate, and how can we stop it?"

"Whatever it is, if these robots think it'll destroy earth, we'll prove them wrong." Green Lantern said confidently.

"Hopefully." The Question bent down and picked up a head. "Excuse me. I need to go now, and have a talk with a man in a blue box."

* * *

Flint Marko and Eric O'Hirn, a.k.a. the Sandman and the Rhino, were robbing a bank. It was the usual crash-and-grab stuff. The Rhino would crash, and the Sandman would grab. They'd walk away loaded with more cash then they knew what to do with. Of course, they didn't know what to do with it because Spider-man usually came and stopped them before they could spend it. Or save it. Or walk ten feet away.

But this time it would be different.

The two of them were accompanied by a man in a fine black suit. His hair was black and slicked back. He wore small glass that he pushed up with the palms of his hands. He did this, because he wore furry black gloves that turned his fingers into katanas.

"It's time." He said.

The three of them turned to leave, and were stopped by a small shadow in the middle of the doorway. "Well well, if it isn't my two favorite bank robbers!" Spider-man leaped into the bank. "It looks like you've got an accountant. Makes sense, you two are probably rolling in dough by now."

"Oh Spider-man." The Rhino put down his money bags, and pumped his fists together. "This time, you are going down so hard…"

"Allow me." Said the man in the suit. He stepped forward.

"And who're you supposed to be?" Spider-man asked.

"You may call me, the Black Cat."

"Sorry, but that names taken. And the first Black Cat is hotter than you."

Black Cat lunged, only for Spider-man to duck to the side. To all appearances, he'd missed completely. "Didn't your mother ever tell you not to run with pointy - Huuuargh!"

Black Cat stood nonchalantly, as Spider-man finally felt the wounds he'd inflicted. Three red gashes opened up on Spider-man's side. "Now you can have your fun."

The Rhino and the Sandman advanced with menacing leers.

Only for a stone fist to rocket out, and hit the Rhino in the head.

The three of them spun around, as the fist was retracted. Four men stood there. One was a large man, with his hair slicked back in a pony tail. The other was an African American man with a shaved head. The third was some unholy combination of man and fish, with the lips stretching out to the front of his face. The fourth was a frightening looking wolf man. All of them were wearing colorful superhero costumes, except for the wolf man who wore a karate uniform.

The large man in the lead was the one with the stone fist.

"And who are you?" Asked the Rhino.

"I am Stone Fist." The one in the lead said. "And I will not permit you to rob this bank."

"Destroy them." Black Cat said.

The Sandman rushed forward like a wave of sand… into Stone Fist's outstretched hand. He grabbed the Sandman, and the Sandman suddenly panicked as he turned into a human again. "Wait, why can't I turn into sand?"

"Nobody has any power in my grasp." Stone Fist said with a smile, before punching him with his stone fist and knocking him out.

"Oh, you ain't gonna get away with that pretty boy!" The Rhino roared as he charged.

He didn't get very far before the Wolf Man attacked. To say that they traded blows didn't do it justice. The Rhino never landed a blow. He managed to take a good many though, before the wolf man knocked him back into the wall, and he passed out.

"You think you four can defeat me?" Kuro asked. "I Am Black Cat! I am…"

A web line attached itself to the back of his head.

Spider-man heaved, and he swung Kuro around until he hit a wall face first. Kuro staggered to his feet, then faltered, and fell over again.

"Ha!" Spider-man staggered to his feet, blood dripping from his wounds. "Thanks for the help guys. That Black Cat was surprising."

"Not as surprising as Spider-man going rogue." Stone Fist said, advancing towards Spider-man.

Spider-man's spider-senses flared to life, and he tried to jump out of the way… but suddenly he slowed down, as is he was propelling himself through molasses. Stone Fist smiled, and touched the exposed skin on his wound.

Spider-man suddenly felt dry, like all of the water was being suck out of him. He gasped the air like a fish looking for water, before he collapsed in Stone Fist's arms.

* * *

Spider-man woke up, blinking blearily. He still felt dry… but less so? He raised his tired head to look around, before he realized his wrists were handcuffed. He tried to break through them, but they held firm. He was just so tired… he didn't have any energy any more.

And then he realized he wasn't wearing a mask.

Tired or not, he raised his head and got his bearings. He was in the back of a police van, Black Cat was handcuffed across from him, along with a still-unconscious Rhino. The Sandman was in a large glass jar next to him. On his other side, the four new heroes were talking to the police and giving autographs to children.

"He talked about how much he needed the money for his family." Stone Fist was saying. "He bragged about being able to trick the police into thinking it was all those three's idea, and when we came along he said he'd frame us too."

Spider-man tried to protest his innocence, but his throat was too dry. All that came out was a parched cough.

"Boy, Jameson's been railing against this guy forever." The cop said. "But I never thought he'd be right. Thank you Stone Fist. You've saved us from a dangerously unbalanced vigilante. This city needs more men like you."

Spider-man almost protested the man's hypocrisy on instinct, but he was still too dry to speak.

He began to panic, as cameras flashed at him, and police men bragged about his capture as if they were the ones who caught him. He tried to yell out. He tried to run. He tried to do anything to show them that he was innocent.

The supposedly unconscious Rhino smirked. "Stop squirming boss." He whispered. "You'd think you'd never been to jail before."

"Quiet you fool." The scowling Black Cat said. "You'll ruin the plan. If you speak again, I'll kill you."

Spider-man tried to scream. He tried to tell someone – anyone! – that he'd been framed! That this was all a massive set-up! Surely one of the people in the bank he'd saved would tell the police that he…

And that was when they brought out the stretchers, covered in white sheets, outlining human bodies.

No! NO! NOOOOOOO!

"Hey freak." One of the police officers climbed in the van. "I just thought I ought to tell you. My kid thought you were the greatest hero since Captain America. He wanted to be you when he grew up." He took out his police truncheon. "How does it feel to get beaten on by someone you can't fight tough guy?"

WHAM!

Spider-man coughed up blood.

"Hey, what's going on in there?" Another officer looked into the van.

"Just giving the mutant a piece of my mind."

"Give 'im one for Mary. She was just getting some money for our first home you piece of trash!"

NOOOOOO!

WHAM!

Peter's ears were ringing. But he heard someone's voice calling his name over the din. "Peter!"

He looked up weakly, and saw Gwen Stacy staring at him from behind the police barrier.

"'Scuse me miss Stacy, but you know him?" One of the cops asked her.

NOOOOOOO!

WHAM!

* * *

Hawkeye was distant from the world. He'd always been distant. He preferred it that way. If you were distant, nobody could hurt you. Nobody could touch you. You could rain hell on them, and there would be nothing they could do about it.

But he was also distant from his own mind. He not only thought about things, but he watched himself think, and corrected himself when he needed correcting.

Hawkeye watched the scientists work around the Tesseract. Dr. Selvig was the one who told him that the Tesseract could act like a door to another world, but he still hadn't considered the possibility that the door could be opened from the other side.

He didn't bother telling them this though. Let them work on without distractions. Maybe they could find a way to fix it if he didn't bother them with worries about whatever was coming through. Who knew, maybe that wasn't even the problem after all? Hawkeye wasn't a scientist. He was just clever.

The base had been evacuated. Only a few non essential personnel had remained; the scientists monitoring the Tesseract, and the guards for Magneto's cell. Hawkeye hadn't evacuated Magneto yet; he might need him. Hawkeye had often met with Magneto in his cell, played chess with him, and asked for his opinion on the Tesseract.

Fury called him down, and Hawkeye informed him of his most relevant observations. Then the Tesseract activated. And a god stepped into the world.

They didn't stand a chance. Haweye had to admit, even if he didn't want to, that they never stood a chance. Loki took out every guard in seconds, like a giant boot stepping on an ant. And then… then Loki brainwashed him.

Or at least, that was as close to Hawkeye could come to describing what Loki did. Hawkeye was… distant again. There was another Hawkeye thinking in his mind, and the Other Hawkeye watched himself think, while Hawkeye watched the Other Hawkeye watch himself think. Hawkeye was no longer in control.

Hawkeye began to panic. He wasn't in control any more. His body was in control of someone exactly as smart as he was.

The other Hawkeye saw through Fury's ruse, and prepared to shoot him. Hawkeye became desperate. So he stepped back again, watching himself think about watching the Other hawkeye think about watching the Other Hawkeye think. And then he saw the solution.

Quickly he thought of reasons why Nick Fury shouldn't be saved. Loki didn't order him to kill Fury. Fury couldn't stop them anyway. If they shot him in the chest and left him to be buried, it would be even more impressive than an eye shot at this range.

All of these thoughts flitted through his mind, which was the same mind as the Other Hawkeye. They sped through his mind in the same instant the Other Hawkeye drew his gun.

And the Other Hawkeye seemed to agree with these thoughts, and shot Nick Fury in his bullet-proof armor.

Even as the Other Hawkeye escorted Loki out of the base with the Tesseract, he silently cheered. There was one difference between him and the Other Hawkeye. One enormous difference that made it possible for Hawkeye to outwit the Other Hawkeye. The Other Hawkeye didn't know Hawkeye still existed. Hawkeye was playing a game where his opponent couldn't see the board. And Hawkeye played his best when his opponents couldn't see him.

And the Other Hawkeye shared Hawkeye's propensity for risk taking. Sure, it probably would've been smarter to shoot Fury in his one good eye, but the Other Hawkeye was willing to risk that Fury couldn't stop him, and Hawkeye knew he'd risk the same.

What other risks could the Other Hawkeye be talked into taking?

There was one risk. There was one enormous risk. And he told the Other Hawkeye about it.

"Sir, are you planning on taking over the world?" The Other Hawkeye asked Loki.

Loki smiled. "Yes, that's right."

"Well there's somebody else in this facility who shares that ambition. His name's Magneto, he's a mutant with the power to control metal."

Loki stopped and looked at him. "All metal?"

"Yes. He's also a genius, in most aspects of the word. If you can brainwash him, it'd be a big help."

"Do we have time with the base collapsing?"

"Sir, if we rescue him, we won't have to worry about that."

Hawkeye waited intently. If he could breath, he'd hold it in. "Take me to him." Loki finally decided.

They walked quickly, and Hawkeye realized too late, as they rounded the last corner, why the Other Hawkeye was drawing his gun.

He tried to convince him that Magneto's guards didn't need killing, but there was no risk in letting them live, and they weren't wearing bullet-proof vests.

Two guards slumped down the wall. Two good men, who hadn't deserted their posts when an alarm was sounded. Two good men who had died because Hawkeye thought of a way he 'might' be able to trick Loki into hurting himself.

He prayed it was worth it.

As they passed through the metal detectors, Loki ran them through. Hawkeye, as always, was wearing completely non-metallic clothes and weaponry.

Magneto stood as they walked through the plastic walkway. Magneto had designed his cell himself. Of course, it was Professor Xavier who had taken the blueprints out of his mind, and allowed S.H.I.E.l.D. to use them for his prison. Magneto was a genius, in every sense of the word. A game of chess lay unfinished on the table.

"Mr. Barton." Magneto smiled. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this bounty of metal you're bringing to me?"

"He is here as my servant." Loki said smugly. "As you soon will be."

"Servant…" Magneto looked into the Other Hawkeye's eyes, and Hawkeye knew that he saw something foreign.

"Mind control!" Loki brought his spear down on Magneto's heart, and Magneto caught it in his hands. Well, caught it with the magnetic force generated by his hands. "I will be nobody's servant!"

Hawkeye drew and arrow, and took aim. "Stop resisting, or I will shoot you in the head."

"Then go ahead and do so." Magneto said. "I will not choose between two types of death." He thrust his hands forward, forcing Loki's spear up, and narrowing the gap between his scowling visage and Loki's suddenly wary face. "I will not bow."

"You will!" A beam of energy fired from Loki's spear, shattering the plastic prison.

Magneto didn't even flinch.

The Other Hawkeye decided to intervene. Putting his arrow away, he soundly whacked Magneto across the back of the neck. Magneto cried and fell forward. And Loki thrust his spear towards Magneto's heart.

"No…" Magneto gasped as he felt the inky chill of another foreign Magneto spread through him. He grasped the spear and tried to pull it off of him, but Loki held it firm. "No… Know… Know this… I am Magneto… I will not bow… And you will wish… You had never…" He stopped, and Hawkeye could see blue starlight in his eyes.

"Prostate yourself before Loki." Loki sneered, and Magneto did so. Hawkeye couldn't bear to watch any more, so he whispered advice to the Other Hawkeye.

"We should leave." The Other Hawkeye said. "We're running out of time."

"Rise my slave." Loki said, and Magneto rose.

"Now, let us make our exit." Loki made to stride away, but a tugging at his armor made him stop.

"Please… allow me." Magneto lifted both hands in the air, and Hawkeye distanced himself from the world.

* * *

Martha Jones had just driven Director Fury out of the safe zone, before they heard a massive explosion. they didn't dare turn back until the explosions stopped, and only then did she bring the car to a slow crawl. Nick Fury looked back at the base. Or what was left of it. Now, it was nothing more than a crater. "I didn't see anyone get out, do you?" He asked into the radio.

"Negative sir." Said Maria Hill on the other end of the line.

And then he saw it.

Gliding through the air like they didn't have a care in the world, Loki, Magneto, and Hawkeye, standing on a piece of metal. Behind them, a few S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. And behind them, the remains of the Destroyer armor they salvaged from the New Mexico incident, and the Prometheus armor Task Force X stole from the Justice League Watchtower.

Fury emptied his gun at them, but Magneto just stopped them in mid-air, and let them fall with a smirk, before they flew away.

Very few things in this world had managed to scare Nick fury. Fury got back on the radio. "Hill, it's time. We need to form the Avengers."

* * *

_A/N: Hawkeye is now my favorite member of the Avengers. When I first went to the theatres, I was leery of both Hawkeye and Black Widow (two heroes without powers) being on the Avengers at the same time. But man... Hawkeye was awesome! I've never liked him in the comics, because Green Arrow was always the better archer and I didn't need two archer heroes. But this Hawkeye, in addition to being an expert marksman, is also a brilliant strategist! Nick fury once described him as 'one of the smartest men I know' and apparantly trusts him enough to let him give the highly dangerous Black Widow a chance of redemption. Watching Green Arrow shoot arrows is like watching Robin Hood; he makes a few quips, then hits a target that should be impossible to hit. Watching Hawkeye shoot arrows, is like watching someone play a magnificent game of chess with arrows! At one point, he's able to identify the flight patterns of the alien invaders, and so he can shoot one without looking because he knows that it will be there! He shoots an alien out of the sky with a non-explosive arrow once - not only taking out a potential threat, but ensuring that the merely wounded alien will crawl towards him so he can get his arrow back when he needs it most and push the alien off the edge! I love Hawkeye!_

_Koba, Jacobs, and Gene-Sys come from Rise Of the Planet Of The Apes. And no, I'm not letting just any story be canon, only the ones with Magnificent people I want to use. The Light is an organization from Young Justice. Spider-man, Sandman, and Rhino are from The Spectacular Spider-man. Stone Fist is really Sir Crocodile, from One Piece, backed up by Daz Bones, Chew, Jabra, and 'Black Cat' Kuro. Magneto is from the X-men movies (some of them were pretty bad, but they all shared one thing in common; Magneto's the smartest guy in the world, and his plans will wreck you). Hawkeye, Loki, and Fury are from the Avengers movie. The Question, Hawk Girl, Green Lantern, and the other suit of armor are from Justice League Unlimited, same as Vandal and Luthor. Martha Jones and the scavenger robots are from Doctor Who. You'd better be paying attention, because I won't be repeating any of this._


	3. The Four Doctors

Detective Inspector Lestrade of Scotland Yard was waiting outside of a small theatre, where the police were leading away a tall man with a cut lip. He sighed and turned to two other men who were coming out of the theatre. His friend Watson had that long-suffering look about him. His colleague Sherlock was beaming from ear to ear, and had a golden trophy hoisted over his shoulder.

He couldn't help but smile.

"You won first place then?"

Sherlock grinned and nodded. "Impersonation is just one of my many talents."

"Singing, on the other hand…" Watson muttered.

Sherlock seemed taken aback. "You don't like my singing?"

"I don't like Elvis."

"John, if you're going to stay my flatmate, you're going to have to pay proper respect to The King."

"I already have a Queen thanks, I don't need a King."

Lestrade shook his head. "Well, the important thing is that another killer is off the streets."

"How dull. I won a shiny trophy. Perhaps a career change is in order?"

"You'd be bored out of your mind within a day."

Lestrade was going to interrupt them, when the two suddenly turned deathly serious and looked at something behind him. He turned himself, and saw a familiar black car pulling up to them. "Oh dear." He sighed. He never liked it when Sherlock's brother came up. He was a lot like Sherlock, except more arrogant, less caring, and able to pull strings anywhere.

"Here hold this." Sherlock handed him the golden trophy, which Lestrade made a note to photograph before sending to Ms. Hudson, and strode towards the black car.

Mycroft got out of the car and smilingly greeted his brother.

Before he could say anything, Sherlock asked bitingly; "What are you doing here Mycroft?"

"I worry about you."

"Oh, don't give me that, this case was relatively tedious."

"Sherlock won first place." Watson beamed.

"How marvelous." Said Mycroft, with the secret grin that said he was going to use that trophy in some remarkably clever way against Sherlock some day. "Since you're done with the case, I thought you might like a bit of a vacation."

Sherlock merely glanced at the tickets Mycroft was holding out. "San Fransisco? How dull."

"Entertainment will be provided?"

"Sorry Mycroft, I've already got another case lined up."

"No you don't."

Both Sherlock and Lestrade winced, and Sherlock gave John a pointed look.

Mycroft smiled. "I think you will consider taking this one case for me Sherlock. It is a matter of national importance."

Sherlock groaned. "It always is."

Mycroft frowned. "Actually, for this case…"

Sherlock sighed and looked around. "Sorry Mycroft, but I really will be busy."

That was when Lestrade noticed another man jog into the picture. He was as skinny as a pole, wild eyes, wild hair, and wore the most peculiar mix of blue business suit, brown pinstriped trench coat, and worn running shoes. He was followed by a woman who was going a more casual pace, red haired, tired face, and no indication of having looked in a mirror before heading out that day.

Mycroft took one look at him and sighed.

"Hello." The newcomer said. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"Not at all." Sherlock beamed. "You're late Doctor, but I think I will take the case."

Watson and the doctor both looked at Sherlock, confused. "Sorry, who is this?" Watson asked.

"A brilliant man." Sherlock said. "He's come all the way from Vesuvius to ask for my help on a case, but he's a bit late.

The Doctor's eyes widened, then he chuckled, and shook his head in amusement. "Oh, that is brilliant, how did you know all of that?"

"It's quite simple really. Ever since Mycroft started working in the British government, he's developed a habitual twitch whenever I mention the word 'doctor'. The same twitch he showed when you walk up, so I assume you're this mysterious Doctor. He has indentations on his nose, where somebody would rest glasses, but you don't need them all the time because you aren't wearing them now, so obviously you're far-sighted and you read a lot otherwise you wouldn't have those indentations. Given that you read a lot and my brother's terrified of you, I'd say you're clever."

"I'm not terrified…" Mycroft began.

"No, I suppose your secretary just called for a tactical squad for the hell of it." Sherlock grinned at his elder brother. "But no, you're not truly terrified, more the terrified you get when you know a lot of paper-work's coming up, so I'd say, just a guess, he's an enemy of the crown. Your running shoes, are scuffed, worn, you've been doing a lot of running, but not recently. It's rained recently, and only the soles of your shoes are wet, so you haven't run here, but your trench coat doesn't show signs of sitting so you've taken the tube. So, why were you running? You're not training for a marathon. The only justification for running to the point of torturing your poor shoes is if it's your job to run, but it's not an official job, otherwise you'd either be dressed more formally or less formally.

"And that would be all that I can get out of you, the rest being mixed signals and contradictions that I can't find an explanation for right now. However, your companion is just as interesting. You can see by the outline of her wrist that she's taken off her watch, a habit I gather she's picked up with you around, as you clearly don't wear watches. The nice tan suggests she's been travelling abroad, very recently if the mosquito bites are anything to go by. Of course, I'd go by the the jewellery she's wearing, freshly made, put on after she had her tan, Italian, an excellent duplicate of ancient Roman amulets found in the ashes of Vesuvius if I know anything about art."

Watson blinked. "Since when did you know anything about art?"

"Well, dealing with forgeries, you know. So, you've just come all the way from Italy, an intelligent, important man like you, who doesn't usually wear his glasses and hides his skinny frame beneath a big brown trench coat. You obviously have a case for me, and you obviously planned to be the first to show off, so we'd be on an even footing. But you're late."

The night air was stagnant for a while, as everybody stared at Sherlock, except for Mycroft who was shooting a panicked look at his brother.

"That's brilliant." The Doctor finally said, beaming like a child on Christmas. "That's absolutely brilliant! I mean, you got some things wrong. I didn't take the tube, and I'm not really that arrogant… I think… but other than that, stunning! I would show you my I.D., but I suspect you'd see right through it."

"Of course I would." Sherlock said. "That psychic paper of yours couldn't fool a kindergartner, and how would a time-travelling alien legally obtain identification anyway?"

Watson coughed. "Sherlock…"

The Doctor did a double take. "How could you possibly know that?"

Watson stopped, and looked at the Doctor. Then back at Sherlock. Then back at the Doctor again. "Could somebody explain to me what is happening?"

"We met when I was young." Sherlock grinned predatorily. "I was kidnapped from school, you followed the clues I left and rescued me, inspiring me to take interest in the murder of another young boy that nobody else thought was suspicious, and starting my career as a consulting detective. Of course, that was probably your second time seeing me, as this is your first, so I suppose you weren't just getting interested in a kid nobody cared about, a lost detail that someone failed to observe, but the impact you had on me was the same. You tried to convince me you were a secret agent with that paper of yours. It didn't work. You were late then, and you were late now, always arriving just after the point where you can solve the crime pre-emptively, forcing you to improvise. As for the time travelling alien…"

Sherlock grinned. "I only recently suspected when people like Superman or Green Lantern showed up and started breaking my laws of deduction into smithereens. But you confirmed my suspicions just now. Doctor, may I introduce my colleague, Doctor John Watson, second-place in the Elvis Presley look-alike competition, and John allow me to introduce you to a man who has probably met Elvis Presley on his home planet, The Doctor."

Another bout of silence in the night air.

Donna Noble walked up to Sherlock and poked his cheek. "It's so lifelike…" She joked, much to John's chagrin.

The doctor's eyes sparkled, and he began to cackle in childlike glee and dance around the street. "Magnificent… didn't I tell you Donna? This man! Is bloody! Magnificent!"

"Oh please stop, John's already expressed his admiration towards me in every possible form of the English language." Sherlock said, lips turning upwards regardless.

"Okay, if you think for one moment that this man is an alien…" John said.

"Don't worry mate, it gets weirder." Donna grinned. "But you get used to it. By the way… I'm Donna. Donna Noble."

"John Watson." Watson suddenly felt very uncomfortable in his sequin get-up and blue suede shoes. "And I'm not normally in the Elvis Presley look-alike competition. This is just for a case."

"Speaking of." Sherlock drew the attention back to himself. "I believe you have a case for me Doctor?"

"Oh yes." The doctor beamed. "Well, less a case and more multiple cases."

"On a scale of one to ten…"

"Ten for each one."

"Sherlock!" Mycroft butted in. "I have a ten as well."

"Only one? I'm insulted brother."

"I don't even want you to take the case." Mycroft said. "But my superiors begged me to ask you. This is happening on a global scale, and if my information is correct, is being guided by one of the most dangerous man you will ever meet. I don't want you anywhere near this, but it's better than you going with the Doctor!"

Sherlock gave him a look. He was very rarely thrown… but Mycroft had somehow managed to confuse him. Then he shook it off and grinned. "But he's so much more interesting."

Mycroft was about to reply, when the Doctor cut in. "Mycroft, don't do this. He won't hear anything form me, but he'll find out soon enough why you don't want him to investigate your case. He's clever."

"He's my little brother." Mycroft said sternly.

The doctor leaned in close. "And he's free to do whatever he wants. Unless you want a repeat of Summer, 2012."

Mycroft's eyes widened. "2012 hasn't happened yet."

"Oops." The doctor gave a knowing smirk and a wink. "Sorry, looks like I'm a bit early this time. Well, if you don't want 2012 to happen, I suggest you stop relying on your little brother for 'legwork' and investigate why a sudden break-out of an extremely lethal biological agent will happen in London within the week."

Mycroft shut up.

"I'm sorry, WHAT!" Watson asked.

"Don't worry." Donna said. "He's the Doctor. Even if Mycroft mucks it up, he'll never let anything happen to the U.K."

"What is all this about?" Sherlock asked.

"He doesn't want you to know about Moriarty, and by extension, Project Prometheus. But you won't have to worry about that yet. Right now, we have to worry about the tactical squad closing in around us."

Sherlock scoffed. "Those idiots? Where did you park your time machine?"

"It's not just a time machine, it's a space ship, and it's just around the corner."

"When did my life go completely mad?" Watson sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Don't worry." Donna grinned. "As long as you can run, you'll fit in just fine."

* * *

Waverly Place Substation was busy as always during the noon rush, but there was always one exception to the rule. Alex Russo usually sat calmly to one side, munching on some fries with her best friend Harper. Today though, was different. Today, a police box had suddenly appeared in Waverly substation.

"What do we do?" Alex hissed at her dad.

"I don't know." He whispered back. "As far as I can tell, police boxes don't have any place in wizardry. But we'd better cover it up anyway."

Justin stepped up to address the lunch-time goers. "Um… attention everyone! What you just saw was…"

The doors to the police box opened up, and a man with curly hair and a striped scarf that reached all the way to the floor stepped out. He stumbled, and coughed a bit, before standing up straight, and seeing everybody looking at him. "Hello!" He said, somewhat bashfully. "I'm… uh…"

"The Great Scarfino everybody!" Justin finished.

Everybody applauded, and the Doctor took a bow, catching on quickly. "Oh! Yes! Yes, I am the Grat Scarfino… Scarfino? Here to provide you with lunchtime entertainment!"

* * *

Inspector Lunge sat at his desk, quietly typing in new information onto his computer. He looked up when someone new entered his office. "Sherlock Holmes, what a pleasant surprise." He said, with a lazy smile.

Sherlock beamed, as Watson, The Doctor, and the others followed. "You've heard of me."

"Of course I have. Any decent detective has heard of you. Though, most follow Dr. Watson's blog. I much prefer your own website, 'The Science of Deduction'. It's been an indispensable career."

Sherlock's smile grew wider then he'd previously thought possible. "And you book on What Makes a Great Detective, it's been truly inspirational to me."

Lunge smiled, and this time it was the smile of a normal human being. "How can I help you?"

"Actually, this man here –" He gestured to The Doctor. "is putting together a manhunt for the ten most dangerous men on the planet. We wanted your help."

Inspector Lunge frowned. "Sorry… I am something of a family man in my old age. I can no longer go running around the planet."

"Oh, but the Doctor said you had past experience with some of them. The Gruber brothers, Simon and Hans. And somebody named Johann…"

Inspector Lunge shot straight up from his chair. He felt like he'd been dunked in Ice Water. He felt like the lights in the room suddenly dimmed. He felt empty. Of all the people who had hunted Johann, he had been the most stoic. He had been the most reasonable. Johann wasn't a demon, he'd tried to convince himself, Johann was just a man. A man who could be shot, a man who could be killed. And when Johann finally was shot, this was confirmed.

But… what sort of man could get up after a second shot to the head?

What sort of monster…

"I'll come." Lunge said. The new computer of a family man would have to wait.

* * *

Ras Al Ghul's guards ran down the long hallway to their master's quarters. Somebody in their had tripped the alarm. And they were sure to make it the last mistake of their lives. They were the elite. They'd been trained since birth to aid their master's glorious vision. They –

"Hey! You two!"

They Stopped. One of their number was dragging a coffin behind her. "One of the master's plans have gone wrong! Help me get him to the Lazarus Pit, ASAP!"

The other guards could deal with the intruder, these two recognized their master's safety as the highest priority. They helped her quickly pick up the coffin, and the three of them made their way to the lower levels of Ras Al Ghul's mountain fortress, to the lazarus pits that granted him immortality. With all due haste, They opened the coffin, and tossed it into the pit.

It was only then that one of the guards noticed something.

"Hey… that's not the master…"

The woman who wore their uniform had already taken out his cohort. He barely had time to pull out his sword, before she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. He suddenly found that he didn't want to raise his weapon. What was the point? After all… he was in such a pretty… field of flowers…

The woman put away her hallucinogenic lipstick and took her hood off the reveal a mane of frizzy red hair. "Sweet dreams." She remarked. She took his sword from him and took out a blow torch. She etched a series of strange symbols onto the sword, finishing it with two words in English:

_Hello sweetie._

The air seemed to scream, like a car coming to a sudden stop, and she smirked as the blue police box appeared behind her.

The Doctor emerged from his TARDIS. Watson and Donna following him. "River?"

River Song smiled. "Hello Sweetie."

"What are you doing here?"

She tilted her head. "Saving the world, same as you." She gestured to the Lazarus pit. "I got a present for you. For your little gang of detectives."

"Are you joining us this time?" The doctor asked.

River seemed to think about it. But then she smirked. "I'll be around. With a flash of light, a burly bald man with shining eyes teleported behind her, and then the pair of them were gone.

With a gasp, the freshly re-animated corpse surface from the water, and Watson dragged him to shore. Suddenly, the man lashed out, and knocked Watson down flat. With a roar of rage, he began to pummel him, each swing of the fist either aimed for something vital or packing enough force behind it to break bones.

Inspector Lunge ran forward and grappled with the man, who roared with rage at him. But when the roar subsided, the two met with surprised eyes.

"Lunge?" The man asked.

"Grimmer." Lunge smiled, and brought the wild former dead man into a hug. "Grimmer, I can't believe you're alive!"

* * *

Sherlock knocked on the door. A lanky Japanese man with messy hair answered. "Hello, Mr. Akiyama?"

"Yes, what is it?" the Japanese man asked, suspiciously.

"My name is Holmes. Sherlock Holmes. Congratulations on the pregnancy by the way. I'm a detective, and I'm here to offer you a job."

The Japanese man shook his head. "I'm not interested."

"I think you will be." Sherlock held up the psychic paper.

Akiyama frowned as he read it. "Alright… what is the job then?"

"We want to track down and arrest the ten most dangerous men on the planet."

Akiyama frowned. "I think you have the wrong man for the job."

Sherlock shook his head. "No, there's no mistake. At least, I don't think there's a mistake, I'm not sure about the science of it all. We fed the numbers into a computer, and you were the most eligible to help. Apparently, you're an ex-con, you're the co-winner of the Liar Games alongside a Ms. Nao, and then you were involved in something called Project Prometheus…"

"If this is something to do with Prometheus…" Akiyama glared.

"Akiyama!" A smaller lither Japanese girl bounced to the doorway. Her stomach bulged with a seven-month-old baby. "Who is it?"

Akiyama frowned. "This man wants me to hunt down fugitives."

"No, fugitives would mean they've already been tried and convicted." Sherlock shook his head. "We want you to help us hunt down criminals, and then trick them into giving themselves away so they can be arrested."

Nao frowned. "I'm sure he could do that, but it sounds too dangerous. He's a married man now, and I don't intend on letting him risk his life with a baby on the way."

Sherlock frowned. He wasn't very good in situations like these. He would need to be very delicate. "Oh, who cares about a baby? Babies are boring. We've got criminals to catch!"

Both of them glared at him.

He frowned. Not the reaction he'd been hoping for. "Okay, look."

"No, don't say anything else Mr. Holmes." Nao said. "I don't think my husband wants your job."

"No." Akiyama agreed. "You can tell whoever you work for to take a hike."

Suddenly, a screeching sound filled the air. It sounded like a car grinding to a halt in the wrong gear. A bright light appeared, about three heads higher than them, and the light slowly turned into a blue police box.

The door opened and the Doctor came out. "Hey! I found another detective in a Lazarus pit! Have you picked up Akiyama yet?"

Sherlock groaned, as the couple stared at him. "No, they're being completely obstinant."

The doctor strode up to them and flashed his psychic paper. "Hello, my name's Mr. Smith. I'm with the –"

"Excuse me sir." Nao raised a hand, as if asking a teacher for permission to speak. "But perhaps you grabbed the wrong identification. That's just a blank piece of paper in your hand."

The Doctor was startled. He held the paper up to Akiyama. "And what do you see?"

"It was a badge for the C.I.A. like Mr. Holmes'… but now it's fading."

"Amazing!" The Doctor was overjoyed. "This, my friends, is psychic paper. It shows you what you expect to see. You must be extraordinarily perceptive to be able to see through it, and you sir must have exemplary faith in your wife to trust what she's seeing over what you're seeing!"

The Doctor laughed as the two of the looked at each other in confusion. "What exactly is going on?" Akiyama asked.

The Doctor beamed. "Well… let's start again. I'm the Doctor." He stopped smiling, his eyes became much more intense… much more focused. "I'm a time traveler, with access to technology beyond your wildest dreams. At some point in the near future, there will be a great cataclysm. During this cataclysm, the smartest of humanity will decide the fate of the world. Unfortunately, a good portion of humanity's geniuses are criminals or worse. So, before the end of the world, we have to find and contain the worst of the brightest. And my highly advanced alien technology says you are part of the team that will be able to get the job done." He smiled again. "So, what do you say? Do you want to come save the world with me?"

Akiyama looked at Nao.

"Of course we'll help!" Nao said. "Come on Akiyama, let's go!"

Akiyama held her in an iron grip. "Nao… if you say that this man is a time traveler, then I'll believe you. But this sounds far too dangerous for you. There's nobody around this time to say it's against the rules for you to get hurt."

Nao frowned. "You're not leaving me behind. And don't think about tricking me into staying either, I'll just follow you."

"You'll follow a time machine?"

"I might get hurt doing it, but I'll try."

The two stared into each others eyes, the type of stare born from a couple who had absolute trust in each other, but also trusted each other to pull a fast one the moment they broke eye contact.

"Alright, we'll come." They said together.

"But he keeps his distance." Akiyama added, pointing to Sherlock who flung his hands in the air in frustration.

* * *

Parson Gotti was the type of guy who woke up every morning to the sound of his radio alarm clock, and had to take a Red Bull to get through the day. His music of choice was gaming related – in fact, everything about him related to fantasy games. Even the bumper sticker on his lemon of a car read; 'jesus saves, he takes half damage'.

He was also fat.

Very fat.

He worked a dead-end desk job. He spent most of his afternoons sitting in Krisko reading magazines, and most of his evenings sitting in his 'almost broken under his weight' chair in front of his computer. He had a wecomic: Hamstard.

He blogged.

The website had just reached a record of 24 uniques watching it yesterday.

Thankfully, tonight was game night. And he could relax with his gaming peeps.

He smiled at the motley crew before him. It was a smile they'd long since come to fear and respect.

"Gentlemen. Ashna. Let's do this thing. Today we begin the first beta test of a turn-based strategy game that I have been preparing for five solid months. You are about to command armies in a desperate final struggle for survival… between all that is holy and decent… and all that is vile and unholy… not to mention unspeakable."

"Unspeakable?" The newest member of their group, the one who had learned to fear Parson, but not yet to respect him, said in a whimper.

Parson smirked. "I said not to mention unspeakable."

"Damn it Parson…"

The others shared knowing smiles. "Five months?" One asked.

"Man, you really live for this, don't you?"

"You have no idea."

Ashna frowned. "Why?"

Parson sighed. He had to admit, he was somewhat flattered by Ashna's friendly curiosity about his health. But it was more than a little irate. "What do you want, a soliloquy? You know why. Because my life sucks! My car is a rolling bomb. My job feels like an endless training film. Nobody reads my webcomic. This place is a hole. A condemned hole for squatter hobbits. And to be honest, I don't find any of that stuff interesting enough to change. So… I game."

It was true. Parson did leave a horrible life. And he knew it was within his reach to change it… get a better job, get a better car, get a chair that didn't threaten to break when he sat his fat self down in it. But all of that stuff… it was annoying, yeah, but he was really only interested in one thing. And that was; strategy. Tactics. Outmaneuvering a skilled opponent could make him feel alive like nothing else could.

"And you run some amazing games Parson." Ashna said, as everyone else looked on, confused as to why she was trying to deter Parson from his one love. "But I don't know if it's healthy. It's sucha huge escape for you."

Parson frowned. "Of course. Okay. Guilty. But… I mean, strategy? Tactics? Logistics… systems… worlds? These are the only things that engage my interest." Parson almost smiled as he thought of an idea."See if I could, like, literally escape into one of these games, I'd do it in a second. Snap my fingers and teleport in? Absolutely. Bam! Seeya!"

Suddenly, an infuriating, grating noise echoed around Parson's basement. A police box slowly faded into view in the corner. As it fully materialized, A bald man in a black leather jacket and a crooked nose popped his head out. "Which one of you is Parson Gotti? I need you to come help me save the world."

* * *

Penelope Garcia was not in the mood to have her computers hacked. Particularly, because this hacker used magical runes on his computer so she couldn't hack him back, which she was more than capable of with his skill level.

"Hello Penelope." David Xanatos said.

She decided on her course of action. "I am going to ignore you." She dutifully went about her work.

Xanatos sighed. "The Illuminati is dead, Penelope. Savage is still alive, but I'm certainly not going to force you to do things you don't like. When have I ever?"

"The Illuminati is dead." Penelope glared. "And good riddance. You guys are always trouble."

"I'd recommend not telling that to Savage if he comes calling."

"I'm sorry, I can't hear you, I'm too busy ignoring you."

David Xanatos sighed, and adopted a more serious composure. "Fox is dead."

Penelope dropped her coffee mug. It shattered on the floor and she ignored it as she went to her computer screen. "Oh my gosh, how did it happen?"

"A man named James Moriarty gathered a good deal of intelligent criminals together and threatened something precious to each of us. In Vandal Savage's case, it was the Illuminati. In my case, it was Fox."

Penelope gasped. "Wh-why?"

"You work with the criminal profilers." Xanatos said, almost shrugging. "This man, Moriarty, he never commited a crime in his life. He's a consulting criminal. He tells other criminals how to pull off spectacular crimes and get away with it. He was showing off what he can do, as a business pitch. Then one of us, I'm not sure who, paid him to push the big red button, and he ordered his men to do away with the Illuminati, and do away with Fox."

Xanatos leaned in to the screen. "I need you to find Moriarty."

Penelope shivered. "What are you going to do with him?"

"I'm not going to justify myself to you." Xanatos leaned back. "The illuminati is dead, and I don't have any power over you anymore. I'm asking, Penelope, and if you say no that's fine. I just… I just want to find him. I just want to know where he is. What he is. I haven't decided yet what I'll do after that."

Penelope had to remind herself that this was David Xanatos. He looked so… despondent on the other end of the webcam.

"I'll do it." She said. "But only because this guy sounds dangerous, and I'll only do it in my spare time."

He nodded. "I understand. Thank you Penelope."

David Xanatos signed off, and Penelope sat back in her chair and sighed. "When did my life become this complicated?

_When you were caught hacking Cadmus files looking for alien life._ A voice in the back of her head said.

She sighed. Because nowadays, there were people like Superman, and Green Lantern, and the Martian Manhunter, and everybody knew aliens existed.

She needed to clear her head. Maybe she'd go out to the office and flirt with Morgan.

But no sooner had she left her cozy little computer closet, then she found herself face to face with something even more troubling. Reid was packing.

"What's going on?" She asked.

Morgan turned to look at her. "Reid's being transferred."

Penelope began to panic. Reid had been with them for… like, ever! "Why is he being transferred?"

"Because we need him." A man in a blue suit and brown pinstriped trench coat walked up. "We're putting together a team of the best and the brightest. And we're going on a manhunt for the ten most dangerous criminals alive. We're going to need a profiler. And Reid's a genius; he'll fit right in."

"Don't worry Garcia, I'll be okay." Reid grinned.

She tried to make light of the situation. "But… but we didn't even get a chance to say goodbye."

He looked confused. "We're saying goodbye now?"

"No, I mean a proper goodbye, with cakes, and goodbyes."

Reid smiled. "Don't worry, this isn't goodbye. I'll be allowed to call her, won't I Doctor?"

"Oh yes." The Doctor beamed. "We'll need all the help we can get.

* * *

Jack Sparrow looked at his compass. It was pointing to a barren piece of sand. He looked up. The sand was still barren. He looked down, and took a step to the left. Still pointing at the same spot. He danced on the spot, zig-zagging across the beach, hoping that this might fool the compass. It didn't work.

"It doesn't work." He muttered, referring to the compass as opposed to his jerky movements.

Suddenly, in a flash of light, there was a hot air balloon.

He stared at it.

But he was hardly surprised.

Because living in Jack Sparrow's head is like being perpetually drugged.

Especially if you were Jack Sparrow, and you were living inside Jack Sparrow's head.

Inside the balloon, there was a man in somewhat fancy, somewhat peasnet-ish clothes. Jack admired his tastes. The man looked out of the balloon, and saw Jack Sparrow. "Um… hello there."

Jack Sparrow waved. "Hello. I don't suppose you have any rum in that balloon of yours?"

"Rum?" The man looked confused for a second, then his eyes brightened. "Oh yes, I do have some alcohol. This may seem like an odd question, but do you know what year it is don't you?"

Jack nodded. "As a matter of fact, I do. And since I have something you want, and you have something I want, I recommend a trade."

The other man tossed him a bottle of wine, and Jack smiled. "The year is 1674." Jack Sparrow said, taking a swig.

The man groaned. "I went backwards!"

Jack Sparrow smiled. "Might I guess from what you're saying, that you are riding some kind of…" He searched for the words. "Time… balloon?"

"This is my TARDIS!" The man beamed proudly. "And yes, once I get it working, it will travel backwards and forwards, in time and space.

Jack nodded, and was struck with an idea. "Say, if this is all real and not just some highly realistic dream, would you want any company on your highly improbable voyage?"

* * *

Dexter approached his prey from behind, with the stealth of a jungle cat.

It was fast, and it seemed to be able to sense what was coming.

But the moon was calling to Dexter.

The prey was his!

He brought his weapon down…

And squashed the fly in mid-flight.

Dexter grinned grimly, as he observed the fly on the end of his fly swatter before going back to work.

"Dexter!"

He came to attention as his boss, Le Guerta, escorted three men to his station. The lead man was tall, balding, eyes like a falcon, wearing an old suit, and tapping his fingers against the side of his leg. Next to him was a man who looked like he was barely out of his teens, and acted just as awkwardly. As well as a laid back man with a broad smile, a plaid shirt, and pants pulled up way too high."Dexter, this is Chief Inspector Lunge of the B.K.A., Agent Spencer Reid of the F.B.I., and Wofgang Grimmer."

"Of P.I.E." Mr. High-pants beamed.

Dexter smiled, and shook their hands, like a human being. "Hello." He said. "I'm sorry, I haven't heard of P.I.E."

"It's the Pre-emptive Investigation of Evil." The man indicated to be Inspector Lunge said. "It's just been formed yesterday."

"Oh. Sounds impressive." Dexter chuckled.

"It's not the best name, we'll admit." Mr. High-pants shrugged.

Dexter secretly wondered whether he should be running.

"The hell is this about?" Angel Batista, Dexter's loyal friend and boss in the Crime Scene Investigation unit came up.

"These men want to offer Dexter a job." Le Guerta said.

Dexter was surprised. "Why would you want me?" He asked.

"The Pre-emptive Invesitgation of Evil, is a special task force made up of the best detectives in the world." Inspector Lunge explained. "Agent Spencer Reid is a genius, with several credentials, and he's worked with the F.B.I. profiling criminal minds. I'm the top agent in my own field, and inventor of a sort of artificial dietetic memory. And Mr. Grimmer was a spy during the Cold War. We are a collection of the best detectives in the world, and our mission is to find and arrest the ten most dangerous criminals in the world."

"That's impressive." Angel said, and Dexter had to agree.

"What we need now is a forensic specialist." Inspector Lunge said. "And while there are no forensic specialists who fulfill our high criteria for membership yet, we hope you can be the first."

"Woah!" Angel said.

"Wait, you want me?" Dexter sat down, and stared at them, with what he thought was a perfect measure of disbelief. "How exactly do I fulfill your high criteria?"

"Our screening process tells us that you're easily the best blood splatter analyst in the world." Reid said. "That's very impressive. You have straight A grades in school, including self defense courses. That'll make you our most able-bodied agent if you join. And also, something about your father Harry's involvement in a 'Project Prometheus' caught The Doctor's eye, so we chose you."

"The Doctor?" La Guerta asked.

"The Founder of P.I.E." Reid said, with a beaming smile. "It's what he calls himself. He wants to remain anonymous."

Dexter frowned, and shook his head. "I can't leave Miami." He said. "It's my home." _And it's too full of scum for me to kill for me to leave. _He thought. _It's the perfect place to ply my craft… a craft that would be difficult to ply if I was travelling across the country with other detectives._

Grimmer's smile never left his face. He leaned in dangerously close to Dexter. "I know what you are." Grimmer whispered. "The others don't. They don't have the same darkness that you and I have. And I won't allow a monster to roam free. So take the job offer."

Grimmer retreated back to his space behind Lunge, as Dexter stared at him, and everybody else looked around, confused.

Finally, Dexter nodded. "When do I start?"

* * *

River Song looked through the lab records of Gene-Sys. "That's strange… this is the virus we've been looking for, the one that will cut the planet's population into a twelfth of what it is if we let it. But all except for one of the scientists who worked on it are dead now."

"That one?" A voice from the shadows asked.

"He called in sick. Honestly, a genetics lab that doesn't check in on their employees when they call in sick."

The man with the shining eyes moved out of the shadows. He wasn't really a man – not in any sense of the word. But he was a skilled fighter, and for now, he was with River.

"What's the plan?"

"The chimps have been moved to Baskerville, Britain." River said with a frown. "We'll check up on Dr. Franklin, and then catch up with those monkeys. And then, if all is well and we've stopped the plague… I don't know how, but we'll have to find some way of stopping Slade from kidnapping Rogue."

Riddick nodded grimly.

* * *

Agent Hightower strode into CBI's main operating floor. "Jane, Lisbon, we need to talk."

Patrick Jane got up from his reclined position on the worn up sofa against the wall. He didn't have a home to go back to. He lived in the station, waiting for news about Red John, the man who murdered his family. He didn't even wear pajamas. Just different variations of his comfortable 3-piece suit ensemble.

He and his boss Teresa Lisbon made their way to Hightower's office, where they were met with a peculiar sight.

There were several strange looking people in the office. Jane looked at each of them, picking up what he could. That one in the white… probably a doctor from somewhere tropical. The one in the plaid looks like he's back from vacation too. A pair Japanese couple, newly married, a German investigator, An ex-military man and a London socialist each secretly trying to hide that they have a crush on each other… the only one that threw him for a loop was the man in the lead. The man in the blue suit, pinstriped trench coat, and running shoes.

"Ah hello." The man beamed and shook Patrick's hand. "Patrick Jane! 'The Mentalist'! Now our team is complete!"

"I'm sorry, team?" Lisbon asked.

"Mr. Smith here…" Hightower started.

"If that is his real name." Patrick Jane guessed. Because come on… Smith?

"It isn't his real name." The Japanese guy informed him.

"Oi, no ganging up on me." 'Mr. Smith' grinned like they were just trading friendly barbs instead of revealing that he was going under an alias.

"Anyway…" Hightower started again. "Mr. Smith is putting together a team filled with the most eccentrically effective detectives in the world and going after the America's Most Wanted. They want you on their team, and they're taking over the Red John case starting now."

Jane glanced at Hightower, then back at 'Mr. Smith'. "Well, when you put it that way, how can I refuse?"

* * *

_A/N: So, The Doctors number 3, 9, and 10, are from Doctor Who, as are Donna Noble, Jackson Lake, and River Song. Sherlock, Mycroft, watson, and Lestrade, are fomr BBC's Sherlock. Patrick Jane is from The Mentalist. Akiyama and Nao are from The Liar Game. Lunge and Grimmer are from Monster. Dexter is from Dexter. Spencer Reid is from Criminal Minds. Jack Sparrow is from the Pirates Of The Carribean series. Riddick is from The Chronicles of Riddick. Parson Gotti is from Erfworld. The Russo family is from Wizards of Waverly Place. Phew, that's a lot of introductions. _

_Sorry about the late chapter, it's been a busy week. Stay tuned to find out exactly what this Cataclysm is, what Project Prometheus is, and more! This is the final plotline I've set up. I know it's alot, but nobody knew will be coming in for a while._


	4. Some Assembly Required

Captain America stood in wonder in the observation area of the Justice League Satellite. "All my life, I wanted to see space." He admitted. "After I became Captain America, I thought maybe I could join the space program after Nasa. Now…"

"I know." Superman stood next to him, smiling. "I grew up watching the skies."

Captain America sighed. "This all seems so unreal."

"I felt much the same, when I awakened in this new world." The Shining Knight said. "But it is real, true enough. The times may change slightly, with words, with technology, but always life presses on. The same manner of heroes, the same manner of villains."

"You were an inspiration to me when I was young." Superman said to him. "If you want it, there's a seat on the big table ready for you."

"Thank you." Captain America nodded. "But the seven of you started this league. And I want to earn my place at the big table, the same as any of these other heroes."

His cell phone rang. He was still getting used to modern technology, but he was used to it. Back in his day, he fought against and side by side with things that an ordinary man would call science fiction. He was adaptable.

He read the Caller ID. It was Nick Fury. He wondered if it might be something important, but he blocked the call. It was probably just another attempt to get him to adjust to civilian life. He was happy right here, in the Justice League watchtower. This was where he belonged.

* * *

He didn't belong here.

Peter Parker, formerly known as Spider-man, was lead into Belle Reve. He had a collar around his neck that gave him the proportional strength of a high school science geek. His wall-crawling abilities were gone too, and his web shooters had been confiscated.

And he was surrounded by every single person who hated his guts. And more, who just wanted to make a name for themselves shanking Spider-man.

Thank goodness for small miracles, his spider-sense was up and running. He'd kept it a secret, which meant that they forgot to program it into his collar. Which left him with reflexes above any of the other inmates at least.

He was lead into the courtyard. He was familiar with how prisons like these ran. He'd been asked to help test the security of one. Even stopped a breakout while he was there.

But he had his powers then.

And everybody was looking at him like he was the killer of a small group of frightened,defenseless people.

He had to escape and clear his name. These two things were clear in his mind.

Then he had to go and apologize to Aunt May, Gwen Stacy, the Connors, and then keep them safe. That would be more difficult.

But if by some miracle he managed the first one, no doubt he could deal with the second.

A group of thugs walked up to him. Judging by their posture, the old man in the middle was the ringleader. "I'm Icicle." The man said. "The warden might tell you differently, but I run Belle Reve. Who are you small fry?"

"I'm Spider-man." Peter coughed. He wasn't in any shape to talk, let alone walk, or even face down the baddest guy in the yard. But he wasn't going to let a little thing like multiple bone fractures stop him.

"Ha!" Icicle barked out the laugh like an old dog. "You? Spider-man? Well then, welcome to the dark side. Enjoy your stay." Icicle swung a fist.

Peter dodged it like it was slow motion. Then he swung out and punched Icicle. Either years of practice had made him strong and good at punching, or the necklace he was wearing hadn't blocked out all of his strength, because when the fist connected, it shook loose some of his teeth.

But only some.

Icicle wiped his bloody mouth on his sleeve. "So, you wanna go kid?"

Peter thought he'd like to. But then he felt a familiar tingling in the back of his head… and something about this situation just wasn't right…

"No." He said.

Icicle frowned. "What, chickening out? There's a pecking order in Belle Reve…"

"And you're not at the top, are you?" Peter realized what was wrong with this picture. "Look at you. This collar is inhibiting my strength, you just lost a game of 'punch me' with a high school science nerd. And you've got these brutes doing what you want?" He gestured to Mammoth and Blockbuster, who stood on either side of Icicle. "You're not the toughest guy in the yard, you're the front man for the toughest guy in the yard. These guys aren't afraid of you, they're afraid of your boss."

Peter always had a mouth on him, especially when he was terrified. But even blowing smoke, the look on Icicle's face told him he was right.

"That's Spider-man for you." Peter's head spun as he turned around to face one of the men who framed him. Black Cat. "He reels you in like a fly on a web. We're willing to pay you a hefty amount to work for us instead of whoever you're currently employed to."

"You." Spider-man hissed.

"A moment please." Black Cat grabbed Spider-man by the shoulders, and spun him around so that nobody else could hear his whispers. "You think this is as low as we can bring you, don't you?" Black Cat whispered into Peter's ear. Peter struggled to break free, but the frail looking man was surprisingly strong. "There are always lower depths. And we haven't even started on your friends and family yet."

Peter froze.

"Do you want to know my name little spider? My name is Black Cat Kuro, the man with a thousand plans. I have never once been out-smarted. Only twice been out-fought. And I am only the second in command of the man who now owns your little life. Do exactly as we say, and you will only have to play the part of a villain. Your reputation will be tarnished, but you will be treated like a god. You wouldn't even have to kill anyone. But refuse us, and he will hurt you in such ways that you won't be able to touch him, because there are no laws against these ways yet."

Peter growled. "If you hurt one hair on my friend's heads…"

The Black Cat grinned maniacally. "This isn't my choice to make. This is yours." He turned to Icicle. "We've agreed to even go after your former boss Jameson and kill him if you take our offer, thus freeing you from the possibility of recrimination."

Peter's mind was still reeling. This was… humiliating. Every single ideal he held dear was being crumpled up and tossed aside like a piece of scrap paper.

His fist curled up into a ball.

He spun around on his heel.

Icicle's eyes widened.

Kuro saw his eyes and realized something was wrong.

Guard's heads turned.

The Riddler giggled.

Peter's fist slammed square into the back of Kuro's head.

There was silence in the room.

And then everybody began collapsing.

It started small, with the two goons on either side of Icicle passing out. Then, everybody within a ten foot radius was on the ground. Soon, every inmate had fallen, and the guards soon followed suit.

Peter Parker stood alone in a field of unconscious prisoners, desperately wondering what was going on.

But it was only when he heard the slow clapping behind him, of the only person in the room still conscious, that he began to suspect something. He turned around, and there he was. The warden. He was wearing glasses, a mustache, and a beard, but it was unmistakably the man Peter had come to associate with evil.

Norman Osborn.

* * *

Batman and The Question turned as the sound of an unholy screech filled the Batcave, sending the natural inhabitants into a tizzy.

"The Doctor." They both said at once. They were more than familiar with the time-travelling alien.

So it was a surprise to the both of them, when a fat twenty-something stumbled out of the TARDIS, wearing a pizza-stained shirt depicting a fat hamster.

"Oh dude." He gasped. "Am I... am I seriously in the Batcave?"

"Bright lad you are." The Doctor stepped out. Or at least, they assumed it was the Doctor. He had a big broken nose and a black leather jacket. Either of them could have been the Doctor as far as they knew.

"Ah, evening gents." The man in the jacket nodded. "I'm the Doctor. But of course you knew that. this lad is Parson Gotti. The four of us are going to try to save the world. Are you game?"

The Question held up a head of one of the parasitic androids for the Doctor to inspect. "We're one step ahead of you."

* * *

"This is so good!" Belle said, as she devoured the ice cream cone in her hand.

Rumplestiltskin smiled, and leaned over with a napkin. "You have something on your…" He and Belle shared nervous smiles, as he wiped ice cream off of her upper lip.

Belle giggled, only to clap her hands on her head and moan.

"And that would be the brain freeze I warned you about." Said Rumplestiltskin, perhaps a bit more smugly than he should have.

"Well, if this is the price to pay for the food in this world, then gladly will I pay it." Belle lowered her hands, the brain freeze abating. "Thank you Rumple. This has been a wonderful date."

Rumplestiltskin was about to answer, when he looked over her shoulder. He raised an eyebrow, and the smallest corner of his mouth.

Belle knew that look. Something interesting was happening. She spun around to look and she saw two strange people coming in through Granny's doors.

The first was the man that had released her from her imprisonment, not even a month past. Except he wore finer clothing now, and a grand top hat. The second was a small girl, younger then her, but not quite a teenager. She wore some sort of white uniform, and had long green hair that, unstyled, fell down to her waist.

"Forgive me my dear, it seems that something is coming up." Rumplestiltskin said, getting up from the table. Belle stood to accompany him, but he waved at her to sit down. "Just business, you wouldn't be interested…"

"Don't." Belle said simply. _Don't lie to me. Don't do business behind my back. Don't go back down that road of twisting deals and manipulation. Don't._

Rumplestiltskin looked at the pair. Then back at Belle.

She huffed, seeing her answer in his eyes. "Well, thanks for the date anyway Rumple." She muttered sadly. And then she left. Rumplestiltskin tried to catch her on the arm, but found his arm pulling back at the last minute. Silently cursing himself, he turned to the pair.

"Jefferson." Rumplestiltskin said, smiling dangerously at the 'Mad Hatter'. "And, your name Ms…"

"That won't work on me." The green haired girl said.

"Ah, of course." Rumplestiltskin said with a sad smile as he withdrew his hand. "Well, what shall I call you then? You never gave me a name the last time we met."

The green haired girl tilted her head, much like a bird observing a worm, before replying; "C.C."

Rumplestiltskin smiled at Belle, and patted her arm comfortingly. "Well, to what do I owe the unexpected pleasure C.C.?" He asked congenially.

"The war in my world is reaching a boiling point." She said darkly. "But thanks to the power of the Dark One you gave me… we have a champion." C.C. handed Rumplestiltskin an envelope. "My master can turn the war around… but he wants your help."

Rumplestiltskin took the letter out from the wax took to reading… and instantly became engrossed. "This is a well worded contract." He muttered. "And you say he 'wants' my help… he doesn't need it?"

"I believe my master is, in some ways, smarter than you." C.C. said with a small smile.

"What is Sakuradite?"

"A metal found only in our world. One that channels and sometimes enhances magical properties."

Rumplestiltskin smiled wryly. He looked over the note and at C.C. "You'll give me your word on this? As the Dark One?"

"We have a deal." C.C. held out her hand and he shook it.

"Though you realize, it will take me some amount of effort to set this up." Rumplestiltskin added, in a warning.

"You have a week." C.C. said. "You will be supplied money."

"I don't need money." Rumplestiltskin scoffed, slipping the note into his coat. "But... I will need Jefferson once he's finished escorting you back home."

C.C. nodded. "Come along Jefferson." She said. The mad hatter tipped hit hat to him, and left Granny's. Rumplestiltskin smiled and paid Ruby for the meal. Having been cryptic enough that anybody telling Emma about him would only notch up some paranoia, he left and made sure he was alone before pulling out his cell phone.

Ducking into one of Storybrooke's quieter alleyways, Rumplestiltskin dialed a number he had long since cast aside. There was only one man outside of Storybrooke that he respected, and that was the man who had never made a deal with him. But perhaps this time would be different.

The phone was answered and Rumplestiltskin smiled. "Hello Owen." He said. "I recently came across something of singular interest, and would like to make a deal with Xanatos."

The question that followed from Owen took him by surprise. But then, any man connected to David Xanatos would be full of surprises.

"… Yes, I do know where Moriarty is."

* * *

"Do you have any idea where Moriarty is?"

Artemis looked up from the information running along the Cube's screens. He and Butler were alone in the First Class cabin Artemis had bought when they discovered the Lear Jet had been sabotaged. The flight attendant had fledthe first hour of the flight, leaving her tray of drinks behind her. Artemis had that effect on people. He'd only noticed her distress inasmuch as he'd been able to work faster.

"No." He said. "But nobody is perfect. And Moriarty wants to be found. If he wanted to, he could take on an assumed name and live a content life in some backwards country, desert island, or hermit's shack in the mountains. This is a game to him. There is a clue somewhere that he wants me to find, I just have to know where to look. I'm confident it won't take long."

Artemis did sound confident. But Butler had known Artemis to solve problems in minutes, and it had been a day. If there was anything to be found in the phone's data, Artemis had yet to find it. "Artemis, from what you've told me about this guy, he's a criminal mastermind. I don't think he'd leave anything for you to find on his phone."

"No, he hasn't." Artemis agreed, with a suddenly feral smile. "Which is why I'm not looking in his phone's data."

Butler raised an eyebrow.

Ever one for an audience, Artemis took his cue to explain. "I have hacked into every phone network in the world. Rogers, Verizon, Phonetix, Stark, even Russian phone networks, or small operations like Wild Unlitmited which only covers Madagascar."

Butler was impressed by his employer's thoroughness.

"Moriarty used an untraceable phone. But he still phoned a few people before he died. Their numbers were not traceable either, so instead of simply tracing them I hacked into every phone company on the planet and found their phones that way."

"Wouldn't that be finding a needle in a haystack?" Butler asked.

"An oversimplistic metaphor." Artemis massaged his temples. "More like using an advanced supercomputer to find several bright purple needles in a haystack. It was, of course, fairly difficult, but I had the most evolved data processing unit on or under the planet on my side, and no other options."

Butler did a quick check over his shoulder. The flight attendant was still out of sight, and the doors to this cabin were sound-proof. Even if there were any bugs (there weren't; The Cube had checked) the reference to 'under the planet' might still go unnoticed.

"After finding the people he was in contact with, I quickly went through background checks. Petty thieves, business owners, apparently average people, political names, from all across Europe to China, to America, to Russia… very few had anything in common."

He held up his cube to deliver the coup de grace. "So why is it that three eighths of them, apart from being called by Moriarty, have also called a certain Mr. Penbar in the days previous to being called?"

"You think he's a front-man for Moriarty?" Butler asked.

"A man like Moriarty need not limit himself to a mere one representative." Artemis explained. "There were other names that I found in common too, but when I ran background checks, Mr. Penbar is also an alias of Mr. Sebastian Moran."

"But Moran threw away his phone too." Butler pointed out.

Artemis smiled. "The cube has just finished downloading every phone attached to Sebastion Moran's aliases. The closest one is…" He stopped, and glared at the cube's screen. "Cube… dial Mark Penbar's number."

The phone inside Butler's jacket pocket rang.

"Moriarty is more cunning than I'd thought." Artemis nodded. "There are more than one supervillain after him now… why not force them to fight each other?"

Butler was on his feet in an instant, sipping one of the soft drinks that the flight attendant had left, and spitting it out. "Anesthetic." He said, his gun in his hand. "That's good. It means they want you alive."

Artemis calmly pocketed the cube, and glanced at the drink tray. "Of the villains present at the meeting, who would use anesthetic? I'm certain Xanatos would not be so boorish. Dr. Doom, Bane, Luthor, and the Goblin would never be so subtle. So… Savage, or Octavius."

Artemis, at Butler's cue, switched seat to one in an opposite lane and close to the exit, allowing him some cover and a chance to run should a conflict come to. He made himself small, and Butler cautiously made his way to the pilot's cabin.

There was a noise like a gunshot. And then there were sounds of fighting… someone being thrown into a wall… the clink of sharp metal against metal…

Artemis made himself smaller, and busied himself hacking into the plane. If it was Octavius, then Butler might not win an encounter. Soon, all the signs indicating seatbelts should be worn were on, and the plane was ready to do a barrel roll. Of course Artemis knew how to fly a hacked plane. And he had a feeling, anybody attacking him, would not be wearing their seatbelts.

Since they wanted him alive, he stopped making himself small, instead letting his most menacing grin slip onto his face, and sitting up straight in his seat. He would give them a scare. He was good at that.

The sounds of fighting had ceased.

The door to the front of the plane opened, and Butler stepped out with a wide grin. He had his arm around a stocky African-American with a mowhawk. Behind them, stood an old man wearing combat fatigues.

"Artemis, you won't believe our luck." Butler said with a grin. "This is Baracus. He's an old friend of mine. And this is Colonel Hannibel. Their team is the best tactical espionage and counter-espionage force I've ever heard of."

"Mr… Fowl." Artemis gave Hannibal points for being only mildly unsettled by his age, and Baracus points for Butler to trust him enough to have his arm around him. "We've traced the cell phone of Mr. Moran to this plane. Sorry about the mix up."

"Moriarty is a more cunning foe than I anticipated." Artemis said pondering Hannibal's words. "I suppose you're also hunting for him, and you want to join forces?"

"That's the sum of it." Colonel Hannibal said.

"Then I believe we can help each other." Artemis gestured to the seat opposite to him. "Have a seat."

* * *

"Have a seat Peter."

Peter stood in his prison clothes. "I thought you were dead."

He stood face to face with the warden of Belle Reve. With Norman Osborn. What was he doing here?

"Just one of the many advantages of being me, I assure you." Norman smiled. "Even for you, those multiple fractures must be hurting. Please, sit down."

"I'll stand." Peter all but growled.

Norman shook his head. "Peter… I'm not going to insult your heroism by assuming you've suddenly turned over a new leaf and offering you a job. The Peter I know would never lack the conviction to just change jobs because of some monetary issues."

"So what do you want with me then?" Peter asked. "In fact, what do you want with Belle Reve?"

Norman smiled. "Do you know what Belle Reve is Peter? It's a time bomb. It's a collection of supervillains getting no exercise. And whoever lets them out, gives them a chance to stretch their legs is king. I'm not the only villain on the market looking to take advantage of it, I'm just one of the two who've come the closest."

Peter shrugged. "So?"

Norman sighed. "Harry's dead."

Peter's eyes widened. "You killed him!?"

"No. No I didn't." Norman crushed a paper weight with his bare hand. "But I will kill the man who killed him."He took a pictureout and laid it on the desk in front of Peter. "This man is Moriarty. He –"

"No." Peter shook his head.

"No what?" Norman asked. "I didn't even ask a question."

"You bad guys are so predictable." Peter shook his head and slumped down in the chair. "Listen, even if I knew for sure that Harry was dead, and even if I knew for sure that this Moriarty guy killed him, which I only have your word for and, let's face it, you broke your own son's leg to frame him of being the Green Goblin. Even if I knew these things for a fact, I still wouldn't go on a revenge trip for you."

"I am not lying." Norman snarled. "And you're on a revenge trip right now! You're letting your hatred for me stop you from bringing this man from justice out of spite!"

"No!" Peter yelled. "You've obviously got something going on in this jail. Something that somebody framed me for so I could be a part of it! And you want me to leave this jail, hunting for somebody who may not exist? And, let's face it, I don't need your help to break out. I can do it on my own, and only if I'm sure it won't implicate me any further of any crimes I haven't committed. I'm going to stay in this jail until I'm cleared, and then? Then I'm going to tell the whole world what's up with you. And then I'm going to see if Harry's still alive, and if he isn't who killed him."

Norman Osborn glared at him. But his glare slowly broke into a smile. "Ah, Peter. You're very good at rationalizing your heroism to make yourself look smart. You know, I'd be proud to call you my son."

"Ugh, I need a shower." Peter scoffed.

"Well, you're probably safe for now, but once your face heals I wouldn't recommend showering much in Belle Reve." Norman chuckled. "Seriously Peter, I always knew you would go far in life. But you're not just fighting some mindless brutes in rhinoceros costumes any more. I'll send you back to your cell, like you want, but sooner or later you'll meet someone you can't fight the way you usually do." Norman leaned over, trying to put his hands on Peter's, but he flinched away. Resigning himself to this, Norman sat down again. "On that day, I'll be there for you."

"Don't hold your breath." Peter got up to leave, just as the doors opened. A man and a woman, both decked out in expensive looking gear, strode through the door.

"Warden Hugo Strange?" The lady asked.

"Ah, you must be my Two O'Clock." Norman stood up. "I'm sorry, I was just talking to one of my inmates. I'm a psychiatrist, it's something I do."

"I understand." The woman said, though she frowned like she didn't approve. "I'm Martha Jones. Laison between U.N.I.T. and S.H.I.E.L.D., my partner, Mickey Smith. We're here for Spider-man."

Norman Osborn tilted his head. "I'm sorry… but why? Belle Reve is the most secure facility on the planet."

"S.H.I.E.L.D. believes Spider-man is a person of interest in an ongoing situation." Mickey Smith explained, as Martha Jones raised an eyebrow.

"What? That's insane!" Spider-man cried. "I'm innocent! I was set up! I was only set up this afternoon, and now I'm a suspect for something else!?"

"That sounds about right." 'Dr. Strange' steeped his fingers in thought for a moment, before nodding. "All right. You can take him off my hands I suppose."

That sent off warning bells in Peter's head. If Osborn was letting him go into the biggest government metahuman enforcement agency in the planet, even though he knew he Osborn was and that he was planning something! Whatever Osborn wanted Spider-man out of Belle Reve for, it must be important.

"No, I can't go with you." Peter said. "Osborn –"

Norman pushed a button on his desk, and a sharp jolt lanced through Peter's body. He got up quickly and caught him as he collapsed. "We never transport prisoners outside of Belle Reve when they're conscious though." He explained to the pair. "Standard procedure. I'll get one of the guards to put him in a harness for you too."

"That won't be necessary." Martha Jones said, quickly kneeling next to Spider-man, and giving him a quick check-up.

"Of course it is." 'Dr. Strange' said, as he helped her with Spider-man. "He's been putting innocent people in danger so he could play hero, he just killed several innocents this morning, and he's also implicated in your current investigation."

"He's not implicated in anything." Martha Jones said with some frustration. "He's just a person of interest."

She didn't see the smirk that crossed his face. Nor the curious serenity that followed. "Well then… what's this really about?"

* * *

"What's this really about Octavius?"

The squat little man sat handcuffed at the table. Amanda Waller was at the other end of the table, towering over him. Behind him, two guards towered behind them both, armed to the teeth.

"I've told you." Dr. Octopus said, arms widening to open palms, a gesture of innocence Waller had to restrain herself from spitting at. "It's a simple quid pro quo! You have me, the greatest mind on the planet. I created supervillains for Osborn, and I can build heroes for CADMUS. No longer will you have to fear the Justice League, or have your cloned heroes dying in a month to be replaced with more clones."

The squat little mane leaned forward, and one of the guard's trigger fingers inched. "I've even given you my arms just so you could trust me. And all you have to do, is find the little megalomaniac that thinks he can ruin me, and crush him!"

Amanda frowned. "Jim Moriarty is already a person of interest, to S.H.I.E.L.D. and all of its associates. We'd hunt him with or without you."

"But now I'm with you." Doctor Octavius pointed out. "You would have the advantage."

Waller stared at Dr. Octopus for a long time. There was once a time she would have gladly accepted his offer. She'd excepted help from worse individuals. The thing was, she knew Luthor was a snake when she took him in, and she still let him bite her. She wasn't going to make the same mistake again.

"You're right." Amanda Waller said with a nod. "I do have the advantage. You're here, alone, without your arms, and nobody would notice if you disappeared." She drew her gun in between his eyes and…

There.

His eyes didn't focus on the gun… they flickered a little to the right.

Waller spun around and slammed the gun out of the hand of the guard, even as he raised it at her. She took it and hit him with the butt, solidly in the chest. He doubled over in pain even as the other guard steadied his rifle at the traitor.

"A guy like you always has a back-up plan." Waller said, looking back with disgust at the dismayed Dr. Octopus. "It would take a lot more than you giving up your arms for me to trust you. Take them away."

And as the room filled with guards, taking away Dr. Octopus and his traitorous companion… nobody saw his smile.

* * *

"So, first order of business!" The Doctor spun around on his colleagues, a planet-sized smile on his face. "My good men and fellow detectives, we have ourselves some criminals to catch! The fate of the world depends on it, and a few other worlds besides! No pressure or anything."

"Wh-when you say criminals…" Spencer asked the Doctor. "Are you referring to… metacriminals?"

"What, you mean Lex Luthor, the Joker, supervillains?" Grimmer asked.

"That would be more interesting than the more common-day fare…" Sherlock muttered from the side as he tested the weight of a vintage antique sword he'd found in the TARDIS' wardrobe.

"No, we'll be hunting down the ones who aren't dressing up in costumes and practically painting themselves as targets for the super folk." The Doctor ran a hand through his hair. "We're more concerned about the ones the Justice League aren't concerning themselves with. You're going to be the fine line between superheroes and regular cops. Somewhere in between 'the police can't handle this' and 'look out, he's got a death ray'."

"Oh…" Spencer hemmed and hawed. "Well, if you happen to need help with any supervillains, I have some profiles ready…"

Patrick Jane scoffed. "Let's not lower ourselves to their level." He told Reid. "This isn't a game, and we're not children putting on costumes. We're finding dangerous people, and putting them away before they can kill again."

"Let me put into perspective the kind of men we're dealing with." Sherlock interrupted. He pushed a whiteboard onto the TARDIS' main deck, and began to write names on the top."First of all, there's Johann, no last name. A man of unknown origin, most likely German or Austrian, who was involved in the massacre of a small town, along with several nazi criminals. He's also a serial parent killer, getting adopted several times and murdering his adopted parents after growing close with them for years. He was recently hospitalized, but his body has gone missing, and we have reason to believe he is still at large."

The silence from his audience was unnerving. Even Sherlock didn't offer much more than an 'ahem'.

"Then there's Professor James Moriarty, the so called Napoleon of Crime. Pick absolutely anything to do with crime in London, and he's behind it, guaranteed. Not that he ever actually commits crimes. He just plans them, organizes them, and has a sniper kill anyone who crosses him. He'll be the hardest to actually convict."

"Professor Hannibal Lecter, also known as Hannibal the Cannibal. He's been arrested before, and he's a wanted fugitive now, so all we have to do is find him, not trick him into getting arrested. But he's also one of the founders of the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit. He used to work side by side with top behavioral analyst Will Graham. He'll know how we operate, and he'll avoid us by whatever means necessary."

"And then there's John Kramer, the infamous Jigsaw killer. He's an old man with a brain tumor, who thinks he's doing the world a favor by putting people in complicated death traps where they have to sacrifice something to get out. He does this, to supposedly make them appreciate life more. The ones who escape, that is. The traps are so complex, nobody ever does..."

In the back of the TARDIS, Donna sat down next to Watson and Nao. "I signed up for seeing all of time and space, not catching serial killers." She sighed. "This is all so… goulish."

"Welcome to my life." Watson groused good-naturedly. "Still, when you're friends with Sherlock Holmes, stopping a serial murderer can be as fun as stopping an alien invasion."

The two girls stared at him, partly with shock, partly with morbid curiosity.

"Sorry." He apologized.

"Oh, don't apologize handsome." Donna took his arm… and then her eyes bulged and she felt his arm. "Work out do you?" She asked.

"He was in the army." Nao volunteered.

"How did you…" Watson bit back his question. After living with Sherlock, he had learned to stop himself from asking the obvious question. But it was a surprise to hear somebody other than Sherlock mention it.

"Oh, I've been talking to everybody in here." Nao indicated to the room full of eccentric detectives. "Sherlock told me."

"Of course." Watson nodded, with a blush.

"I know." Donna nodded at him with understanding. "You spend so much time hanging around with a genius, you begin to believe they have all the answers. But if there's one thing I've learned with the Doctor, it's that even ordinary people can be clever sometimes."

Nao nodded. "Oh yes, Akiyama taught me everything I know about being clever." She sighed. "I'm still not a clever as he is, but we're partners."

"In more ways than one yeah?" Donna nodded at the bulge in Nao's stomach.

"When's it due?" Watson asked.

"Oh, not long now." Nao said, fondly rubbing her tummy. "Less than a month. I suppose that's mostly why Akiyama is so nervous about taking on this job. Speaking of which, do either of you know what Project Prometheus is?"

The pair exchanged glances with each other. "Can't say I've heard of it." Watson said.

"Oh." Nao frowned. "Well I'm worried about that. Akiyama doesn't talk about it, and he's talked to me about some very personal things before."

'Maybe he's keeping it from you for your own good?" Watson asked. "Sherlock's played that trick with me once or twice. Your husband's probably as smart as him, and clever people like to play games."

"Maybe." Nao sighed. "But I'll figure out what it means sooner or later, and he knows it. So this isn't a game. Whatever this is, it's shameful to him. So shameful, I think he thinks I'll leave him if I figure it out. Or else why would he keep it a secret?"

"That's a horrible thing to think about your husband." Donna said, aghast.

"No it isn't." Nao explained. "My husband taught me, very early on in our relationship, that only fair-weather friends don't doubt their friends. By doubting people, you get to know them. You get to know who they really are. For example…"

She leaned forward, a finger poised on her lip as she thought. "The Doctor is hiding something. I don't think there's anybody in the room who doesn't know that. It's obvious… there's something big going on, and he only wants these criminals out of the way because they'll interfere with whatever he has planned. However…"

She tilted her head in thought. "He's also a kind and considerate person. I stumbled in front of him, and even though I wasn't really going to fall he helped me get steady. You'd be surprised how many people don't do something like that, even when I'm pregnant."

She sighed sadly, and continued. "So, this, and what you've told me about the Doctor, Donna, lead me to one conclusion. I've already talked to Akiyama about this, and he's agreed. The doctor doesn't plan on staying with us forever. He's hiding the big picture from us, to see which of the detectives gathered here will figure it out first. I think then he'll put that detective in charge, and leave with Donna to take care of something else."

She glanced at Donna. "Does that sound like something the Doctor might do to you?"

Donna and Watson just stared at her.

"Wow." Donna said, finally. "You were right about the not-geniuses being clever once in a while. Did your partner rub off on you John?"

"You mean can I look at somebody and immediately tell they were in a different country yesterday?" Watson asked. "No, I've never been one for the science of deduction."

Donna relaxed. "Whew. For a moment there, I thought I was suddenly going to start spouting stuff about temporal physics if I hung around with the Doctor too long."

"Well partners have to be good at something." Nao said with a smile. "I've just practiced hard to be very observant."

"… Foyet's probably small fry compared to the rest, but he's still dangerous." Continued Sherlock, after an argument with Patrick Jane had abated. "The last four are career criminals. Hans and Simon Gruber are both expert thieving in Europe. Daniel Ocean, also a thief but he incurs less of a mortality rate in his heists, operates in America. And Wo Fat runs about a sixth of the world's organized crime units, with connections to the Mafia, the Yakuza, and even terrorists, managing everything from Hawaii."

"But wait." Inspector Lunge stood, his fingers tapping against his leg. "The Gruber brothers are both dead."

"What?" The Doctor rounded on him. "When did that happen?"

"Christmas-time, fifteen years ago, Hans Gruber held the Takagi building hostage, and was ultimately shot out of the fourtieth story window by police officer John McClane. Five years later, his brother Simon held New York hostage, and was met with a similar fate, again by John McClane."

"Ooooh, yes!" The Doctor began to flip switches on the TARDIS control console. His eyes were alight in manic fervor, as he practically danced through the time machine. "I knew this would happen! I knew it! And now we have a paradox! Hold on everybody, we're going to New York!"

* * *

_A/N: Rumplestiltskin, Belle, and The Mad Hatter are characters of the t.v. show Once Upon A Time. C.C. is from Code Geass. Hannibal Lecter is from his titular book series. John Kramer is from the SAW series. Bob Foyet is from Criminal Minds. Danny Ocean is from Ocean's Eleven. Wo Fat is from Hawaii Five-0. Hans Gruber, Simon Gruber, and John McClane are from Die Hard. Johann Liebert is from Monster. All Spider-man characters are from The Spectacular Spider-man. All DC characters, such as Amanda Waller and Shining Knight, are from the DCAU (Justice League Unlimited). Except for the Batman characters, which are from Christopher Nolan's Dark Knight Saga. _


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